When I peered down
Onto Greenland’s appalling features
Sheeted with snow-glare
Under a hole of blaze in the violet

(I had slid open the shutter
Of the jet’s port-hole –
I wanted to escape
The film about a daughter’s rebellion)

I mourned a little
For my father. I thought of the pierced seal
Down there under the ice
Far from its breathing hole

Straining as he finally strained
With last breaths
Against the steely bond
Held by those aliens –

His bones, his family.

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