When Frozen Glaciers Weep.

When Glaciers weep!

What marvelous air,
must be captured there,
within these crystallized

tombs of time,
trapped inside each

massive hulk of ice
lies the last

condensed breath

of a woolly mammoth,
with the flesh remnants of

his final journey perserved
the scents of an

ancient flower budding,
or the musk of early man tainted with
the woodsmoke of

man's prehistoric fires
odors from the wild game

of an extinct herd
rendered into meat scraps
all frozen into molecules
that are now released

with the melting,
the sloughing off

of their prison.


It is almost

like the crocuses
that sleep beneath the snow,
in my tiny corner

of the world
until the sun warms,

and erodes
their frosted blankets,
and they once

again emerge
as in all the

years before
to reign supreme.

©-MFB III

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Comments 2 comments

Deborah Demander profile image

Deborah Demander 6 years ago from First Wyoming, then THE WORLD

Wow. Beautiful. Thank you for writing that.


Twilight Lawns profile image

Twilight Lawns 5 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

Just discovered you through Deborah Demander's recommendation. I like this poem More to read, I think.

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