Ice Ghosts
An apparition on the northern
shore
Is the white ptarmigan moon
Brushed is the snow beneath her
Soft glacial down in wind silent
slow
See how the ice has shifted the
edge sharp sky
Where darkness cuts into light?
I hear the night earth sigh
Her breath hangs frozen, caught
in flight
A cold berg moans in sorrowful
cadence
To the ghostly steps of an
ancient race
Pale wolves and antlered phantoms
dance
In rhythm with the chase
But chance not the spear, or the
hunt
Where Arctic ghosts still tread
And where the tracks of vanished
herds
Across the straits have fled
All Rights Reserved © J. Linn
Rose 1990-2006