Poem: Why would you want to live in the Arctic? A question asked of me often these 25 years This morning I am standing where Inuit have lived, since time began Their houses, dot this place Circles in the tundra And the stone circles of children’s playhouses Where wild flowers of yellow grow I’m listening to Narwhal breathe As they go about their lives There are dozens. The open water teems I’m watching, but mostly I’m listening The breathing comes from all corners The loud exhale. The sharp inhale Tusks waving, and the flukes as they dive Some breaths whistle Rising in pitch at that exhale And rarely the sound Of a large truck’s engine brakes But mostly that slightly musical breath As they break surface. Steady, and then more rapidly Before they dive under the ice, to hunt Why indeed?

Poem: Fall settles gently now Through the breadth of this land Green has cloaked itself in red And bright yellow Berries glow blue Bright as the sky Hiding that light Beneath scarlet leaves. Look out there Past the cliffs Past the water Past today Beauty enough For tears.

Poem: Why would you want to live in the Arctic? A question asked of me often these 25 years This morning I am standing where Inuit have lived, since time began Their houses, dot this place Circles in the tundra And the stone circles of children’s playhouses Where wild flowers of yellow grow I’m listening to Narwhal breathe As they go about their lives There are dozens. The open water teems I’m watching, but mostly I’m listening The breathing comes from all corners The loud exhale. The sharp inhale Tusks waving, and the flukes as they dive Some breaths whistle Rising in pitch at that exhale And rarely the sound Of a large truck’s engine brakes But mostly that slightly musical breath As they break surface. Steady, and then more rapidly Before they dive under the ice, to hunt Why indeed?

And behind me I hear in camp Gentle snoring A compatriot in their tent Ringed with wire electrified Quiet, rhythmic. Sound safe sleep The fog has deepened now Thick The cliffs on either side, gone. And as I stand amongst these tent rings And ancient qarmat, homes I wonder if there are generations of ghosts Watching Watching me peering into a near invisible Sea of white ice, looking for something Padding silently, white on white.

Poem: It is almost profoundly quiet Almost The generator rumbles quietly Back at the camp And the river And the rain on my hood. Still, it is still Not a breath of wind in this fog And I can hear the gulls on their nests And the whistles of the guillemot And now the wingbeats Of eider As a small flock beats its way To the south, low over the water Then out over the ice And the chuckle of arguing fulmar, On water Hundreds more stream overhead Wraiths in the fog On their way back to the colony And now and then one low over water Gliding Millimetres above its reflection Effortless above not so much as a ripple Lifting just before the ice.

And behind me I hear in camp Gentle snoring A compatriot in their tent Ringed with wire electrified Quiet, rhythmic. Sound safe sleep The fog has deepened now Thick The cliffs on either side, gone. And as I stand amongst these tent rings And ancient qarmat, homes I wonder if there are generations of ghosts Watching Watching me peering into a near invisible Sea of white ice, looking for something Padding silently, white on white.

Poem: It is almost profoundly quiet Almost The generator rumbles quietly Back at the camp And the river And the rain on my hood. Still, it is still Not a breath of wind in this fog And I can hear the gulls on their nests And the whistles of the guillemot And now the wingbeats Of eider As a small flock beats its way To the south, low over the water Then out over the ice And the chuckle of arguing fulmar, On water Hundreds more stream overhead Wraiths in the fog On their way back to the colony And now and then one low over water Gliding Millimetres above its reflection Effortless above not so much as a ripple Lifting just before the ice.

Poem: My hand rests Across your breast In this silence Borne of your anger Not of my hand But of something unsaid The offence You will not explain And I want to Pull you close And I want to Sleep And I want to To comfort you And mostly I want You to help me Fix what is wrong And wake seeing you In the morning

Poem: There are tales in new snow Little lives coiling out The string that marks Their passage Or their passing. Here a lemming has gone Out from the comfort Of insulting, quiet snow Why they’ve marched so far On the surface is a mystery And joining them, a fox Following. Following whatever is taking it On this path so far This will not end well For one, but well for another But perhaps the fox Has forsworn eating lemming And is walking With his newfound friend Perhaps, however unlikely That might be. I should follow And leave my tracks with theirs But I am on my own path At the moment And it’s like Frost Promises to keep.

Poem page 2: Thousands bordering shore Golden in the late light The light long faded When we returned They were lit by the moon So too was the iceberg Which calved since yesterday Baby icebergs Turning smooth ice jagged It glows in this moonlight But yet the best Was in town The ice flowing Down with the tide A mirror of tiny hills It took that light And turned it Into a thousand glittering stars Shimmered in time to the ATV We have ice.

Poem page1: We have ice, Finally. It is late, two weeks More really. But it’s here, And if it stays calm This ice will stay Cold weather Came late, Clear, cold and calm This is our new normal Until it no longer is The warmth, rain And wind. Unwanted But it’s here. But we have ice And on the trail The smooth clear ice Was blanketed with Frost flowers.

Poem page 2: Thousands bordering shore Golden in the late light The light long faded When we returned They were lit by the moon So too was the iceberg Which calved since yesterday Baby icebergs Turning smooth ice jagged It glows in this moonlight But yet the best Was in town The ice flowing Down with the tide A mirror of tiny hills It took that light And turned it Into a thousand glittering stars Shimmered in time to the ATV We have ice.

Poem page1: We have ice, Finally. It is late, two weeks More really. But it’s here, And if it stays calm This ice will stay Cold weather Came late, Clear, cold and calm This is our new normal Until it no longer is The warmth, rain And wind. Unwanted But it’s here. But we have ice And on the trail The smooth clear ice Was blanketed with Frost flowers.