If there is an end to earth
there must be wellness in its core:
if seals sleep alone on ice floes<\/p>\n
and grapes of oil stay concealed
in rock plates migrated south
when seas pushed continents askew,<\/p>\n
if by tipping land\u2019s final point
beavers chew up every beech
and rabbits hired for fun fur<\/p>\n
starve in multiplicity gone foul
because neither belongs there.<\/p>\n
Nature curls in clouded fear
as the rare peat bog stains
red from Spanghum moss,<\/p>\n
once custodian of rotten logs
when glaciers slid down peaks
like silk slips down soft legs<\/p>\n
to settle in aquatic hugs with the sea.<\/p>\n
Waves clap noisily if prows
break swells , mocking sea birds\u2019 glide
over channels of giant ice tableaus<\/p>\n
where albatross with mottled wing
cruise like frisbees as they dive on squid.
Chin-strap penguins porpoise for krill<\/p>\n
life savers and hog all the rocks ashore
for their round pebble nests
if they can tote them in their beaks.<\/p>\n
If there is an end to earth\u2019s endeavor
it\u2019s in explorers sunken by unseen bergs,
it\u2019s in seal pups bruised in abandonment,<\/p>\n
or the man, volcanic black, frostbitten
from yellow kayaks flipping over
in a narrow isthmus\u2019s zero water,<\/p>\n
it\u2019s in snow walls calving in tidal crumbs
with the ease of a day old brownie,<\/p>\n
it\u2019s in the sailor not forgetting for one
bitter second his boot or orange preserver,
aware death could snap like a brittle twig<\/p>\n
if suns shock day with dark moons,<\/p>\n
if Gentoos parent no fertile eggs
between their short webbed feet
where life must hatch through a crack.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"