Thursday, August 25, 2016

Special Feature: "Pingo" by the Editor


An ice volcano~~~~~~~~hydrolaccolith
Whose solid water core covered with earth
With pressure pushing through the permafrost
Oft   called   a   pingo   in   a   tongue   near   lost
Inuvialuit       perhaps       ten       thousand       know
In     northern     polar     lands     all     ice     and     snow
Where        bitter        arctic        winds        forever        moan
But       yet       in       summer       in       the       crater       cone
The       sun’s       dim       rays       atop       the       hillock       make
A            frigid            crystalline            fresh            water            lake
A        mirror        for        the        sun        to        view        its        face
 Across           the           distant           void           of           outer           space
The           silver           surface           turns           to           liquid           gold
To        fill        the        cups        of        the        snow        gods        of        old

                                                                              --Steven Wittenberg Gordon

Poet's Notes:  It is difficult enough to compose a rhyming sonnet in iambic pentameter about an obscure geological phenomenon without all the word painting.  I'm rather proud of this one.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.