He came from Greenland – New Poem
He came from Greenland
He was given a few, magnificent moments
to breathe, shake water from his fur.
Used to his mother’s body heat,
this ½ ton beast arrived in Iceland
off the pack ice as an enemy.
That morning, I had been listening to the Beatles
and eating pancakes.
When I arrived at the site
they were already standing over a white, damp carcass
I wanted to rouse him, cover his great back
with a blanket, feed him seal meat.
He was strung
over a narrow metal bed,
eyes still open to the stars.
Polar bears can look as sad as we can.
There were bloody prints
on the frothy snow,
where his spirit had spilled
out through his mouth
The man who killed him, showered,
dressed in clean clothes,
gave his wife a shirt
bloodstained on the sleeves and chest.