thaw
a poem
the polar bear sits
on the cracked
iceberg,
posture
impossibly tall.
this is her throne,
the ice caps
her loyal subjects.
she's not doing
a very good job
ruling.
her subordinates
wasting away,
dissolving,
into the blue abyss.
she, too,
feels like melting.
her fur
turning into
milk,
only to be carried
away
with the current.
but,
alas,
polar bears
do not melt.
they survive,
living off of fish
and mouthfuls
of purified hope.
she is low
on hope,
accustomed
to being
spoonfed
doubt.
so,
the polar bear
does the only
thing she knows:
survive.
she packs up
her grim fantasies,
discarding them
in boxes
to be dispersed of
by the wind.
then,
she roars,
the sound
comforting
her nation.
"we must hold on,"
she shouts,
"summer can only last
for so long."
YOU ARE READING
bread crumbs
Poetryone starry-eyed wandress and her limitless trail of bread crumbs. cover done by the incredible @runninglow
