Rags
“The buried glaciers make sense as preserved fragments from an ice age millions of years ago. On Earth, such buried glacial ice in Antarctica preserves the record of traces of ancient organisms and past climate history.'
-Their grandchildren, you mean, those ancient organisms,
They, the impersonality of pronouns
A nonchalant passive voice)
Snoopers, übercontrol, but the buried glaciers remain
And glacial ice keeps the traces of ancient history
- lying in the Hellas Basin region of Mars's southern hemisphere
the Moguls of Babylon
as frozen fragments from an ice age millions of years ago
they might symbolize something that one is already aware of
They stretch for dozens of miles from edges of mountains or cliffs,
Not a very clear picture, buried under rock debris, apparently,
Draw the Three of Swords, they learnt how to divert arrows of hate
Under cover of the night
a friendly ghost from friendly fire
“Don´t lose face, hope, don´t foam at the mouth”
Though wise men were said to rage at the dying of the light
And their rage, the empirical fog wrapping us up
our intercepted words. Fossils now,
Of their mountains or cliffs, you can’t tell)
Warning: you could be shot in the face without warning
Or just disgruntled locals tempted to indulge in unrest?
poem by Amparo Perez Arrospide
Added by Poetry Lover
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