Its name has a warm ring
yet is the coldest place on earth,
so cold, moisture freezes inside the nose.
A mere sneeze can project a spray of silvery crystals
scattering like stardust.
No tintinnabulation sweetens the ears.
Sound falls dead like a grounded lark.
Conversation has an icy chill.

Life here exists with no excuses.
Slippery slopes bear no blame for
never reaching your destination.
Brutally bound to the flake white canvas,
existence is forceably cohesive.

And if you ever chance your arm to quit,
a valedictory shake of the hand
will leave you in the grip of winter.

(There will be no husky rescue)



copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
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