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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