Condenses in the air, a story crystallising in cloud shapes
A life so far away, where the only green is land snow white and the wind reaps grim
Hear his song! - the breath of his thoughts crossing the breadth of the deeps
Creeping like fog, taunting the warm fed blubber in the concrete city that sleeps
Of places so cold that love is survival - so she can live with another, not die with him
His warm heart temperate in the tundra, inside he weeps.
Unaija-unaija
~~~~~
A/N
Prompted to write the poem after reading this:
https://tesaoh.wordpress.com/2007/02/11/orpingalik-inuit-poet-and-shaman/
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𝓟oems 𝓟rismatic
Poetry''sketches that shape-shift the angle and the curve'' (line from the poem 'Contrast) Recent/new poems tend to be at the beginning of the book.
