The thrashing in the smothering
madness of terminal political niceness subsides
As a piece of the melting icecap
she floats away from its cold grip
Resigned to an unknown melding
that melts away the icy hardness
Becoming one with the ebb and flow
of what surrounds the island sanctuary
Blowing the breath of life
off its deep blue salty cradle
She is healed.
by John
Sunday, September 6, 2009
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