Poem Hunter
Ice Station
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Ice Station

Ten months
I've been unmanned
By this white
Swirl of desolation.
There is
To lean my brain
One hint
Of catalytic
Warmth hardly holds
The cold from my heart.
The wind howls
Through my mind...
The blankness
Paralyzes thought.
Something... something watches
Me through
The ice-glazed
Something cold,
Something invisible,
Out there
Amid the drifts.
It whispers
With the wind,
A secret that freezes
My heart.
I am a flake
Of snow
Driven to oblivion
Across insane fields of snow.
Long ago...
Long ago...
What was I
Before I was lost?
Has the truth
Found me here?
Does it stare at me?
Does it reach through
The cracks of this window?
To strangle me...
To strangle me
Until I am the wind
Across the field of snow?
I am blinded by the white.
My blood slows
And goes crystalline
Through winding ways within.
My eyes no longer
My heart is dull,
A dying anvil beat.
And I can grasp
Nothing any more,
Except one thing...
This cold hard thing
Of mercy...
That will make
Its sound of
Dull in the white
Un-echoing in this
That pushes
By with
Glacial indifference
As warmth abandons me.

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