Pressing onward through unbreathable crystallized air - feeling in most limbs long disappeared Lower digits blackened, inside thick snowboots - gangrenous concerns pushed to back of numbed consciousness Team-spirit the driving force - the team unfortunately reduced by one - interred in icy grave with scant frost-hurried ceremony Ultimate destination still several hundred miles away but driven, like this frozen, solid air, forced by Arctic winds into reluctant, pneumonic lungs, they trudge northward Thoughts of home - wives, children, parents, friends - pushed to backs of tired, demented minds focused on the quest to forge claim to a barren wilderness - for a country and a world who could not care less.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Moraine and Poganip", and won the Gold Trophy for first prize www.pjmurphypoems.blogspot.com
Showing posts with label The Iceman Cometh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Iceman Cometh. Show all posts
Thursday, August 02, 2007
The Iceman Cometh
Labels:
P. J. Murphy poems,
PJ Murphy,
poem,
poetry,
The Iceman Cometh
Location:
Wexford, Ireland
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