Snapshot Poem 09 August 02006

I Don't Want to Outlive the Polar Bears

She wakes in sheets sweat-
damp, nightmare-stained.
Flat white ceiling, ornamented
walls, closed shutters. Once,
in a dream, she saw another
dimension, as real as these
three. Sometimes, asleep
or awake, she feels the earth
slip beneath her like melting
ice; she watches someone
she loves drift away, quietly,
unprotesting, as the sea
rises and all she knows slowly
sinks and the polar bears shrink
each year in size and numbers.
The seals lay themselves on
anchored yachts. As the ground
diminishes our houses grow,
emptier with each generation,
silent and childless. Heat
is like another dimension, how
it wraps the body, invisibly,
palpably, in space, in time.

Comments

[Dave]

!!!!!!!

(I don't either)