I Saw a Little Bird

I saw a little bird –
Flying high in the sky –
I don’t know why –
– but I said goodbye.
and he said
‘Who on Earth is she? Maybe she is calling me.’

By Freyja Cleary (aged 7).

Ten Dogs

10 little dogs in the garden.
The 1st went to play in a pool.
Two others went to a park. Two more played.
Two more relaxed in the sun.
Two relaxed in the shade.
And the last one had a smoothy.

By Freyja Cleary (age 7).

Dog with smoothie by Freyja

Polar Poetry Featured in New Book & Exhibition

My good friend Dave Walsh is an accomplished and well travelled photographer, who has just published a book of his remarkable images of remote polar places available for purchase: click here.

He asked me to collaborate on this project and as a response to the images I composed twenty small poems for inclusion in the book (available by clicking here).

I was honoured to introduce Dave’s exhibition ‘The Cold Edge’ in Dublin, 13th September at the Copper House Gallery. For more information and superb images see Dave’s website.

Polar Haiku

A new book, featuring some of these poems with their original inspiration images by photographer Dave Walsh is now available by clicking here.

Iceberg

Round Hall, now empty –
Echoing still, with proud boasts ~
Walls glow from within.

Dolphin

Lucky pair, untouched –
By our hands ~ delicious –
Frolic, salty, cold.

Wave

A splash –
Between your limbs –
Warmer than you.

Whale

A lone humpback whale –
Singing songs, that go unheard –
Bouncing, wall to wall.

Luna

Archean craton –
Its sister, shines high above –
The straight and the smooth.

Slush

The heat approaches –
Soon no ice will be left here –
Enjoy while you can.

Seabird

Our Tor, high and true-
Ice: our metamorphic rock –
‘The Black Republic’.

Giant

A sleeping giant –
Frozen in time, undisturbed –
Dreaming of warm Sun.

Bridge

An Ice Rialto –
No merchants, no canals here –
Pure wind, eye of God.

Pool

Ovaries and womb –
Centered with a melted child –
Reverse pregnancy.

Nanuk

Fibre optic hair –
Conceals my Arctic night skin –
Soon I will move South.

Ridge

Many fingered hand –
Squashes the ice, and drops it –
White, fresh cold mála.

River

A race with the sun –
To be ice-bound ox-bow lake –
Unseen, transient.

Passage

Ephemeral coasts –
Ice melting ~ we now keep pace –
With our satellites.

Tern

Maniraptoran –
High above the ice ~ supreme –
Little black-eyed god.

Fox

How now, my Brother?
Pray, never have occasion ~
to smell of my blood.

Walrus

Scourge of the bivalves –
and much else ~ the tusks reserved –
mainly for fighting.

Seal

Eyes atop my head –
Near submerged, checking for bears –
and photographers.

Buried

The warmer ice gets –
More and more stuff is revealed –
Like meteorites.

Bear

Midnight Polar Sun,
Endless light illuminates ~
White Bear’s shadowself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inspired by images of the Arctic and Antarctic taken by my friend Dave Walsh:

http://davewalshphoto.com/blog/

Nature’s Bulldozer

This curious thing:
A wall of white, approaching –
We are in retreat.

Ice wall advancing –
Erasing past and future –
The road not taken.

Ice melts, retreating-
Concrete eskers, black morraines –
Ruins, roads ~ ground ~ dust.

Melt waters, flowing –
Red bricks, lining fresh cold streams –
The deepest of clean.

[There is nothing new under the Sun]

He’s by the river –
Unaware, of detail, past –
The salmon, returned.

Click here for my speech introducing my friend Dave Walsh’s ‘The Cold Edge’ polar photography exhibition, including a reading of this poem.