Wednesday, April 6, 2011


Bears at the Pole are killers beyond bold.
Speed, layered strength is theirs, time before time.
Patience matched only by white Arctic cold.
Ice-caved seals smelled out, crushed; a dinner fine.

Search for fat seals, never a leisured stroll.
Cubs and herself must eat vast calories.
To miss a single meal, their days will toll.
When masters of the cold, grow thin and freeze.

The seal in Arctic waters, safe and quick.
The catch, she must breathe air where jaws like steel.
In silence, waits to lift her body thick,
With fat, which can sustain one bear or seal.

Life measured at its apex, fine, by God.
Though most days spent in ice caves, then in sod.

Photo credit: Scott Schliebe / USFWS

No comments:

Post a Comment