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.

 

 

 

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