Nebula Glacia
Watching a mammoth glacier
As it moved slowly across the blue and red seas
A ship made of gold and myrrh
Set adrift to follow the breeze.
Its body was pure snow
An angel’s lofty pillow
A wall of aero and aqua in a constant flow
At the mercy of the wind’s blow
It blocks the floor below from sun’s bright light
Releasing tears when it gets too big
Its cries felt by all those beneath its height
Thick enough to cover all in its reach like a powdered wig.
One day it is here
The next it had to disappear
For its time has run out
A fleeting dream; a cloud of doubt.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world
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