Nesting the austere
The Antarctic experience is gilded by our opportunities to venture to its huts about our perimeter. I thought I’d share a little poem I wrote on the drive to Browning’s.
Oh icy scourge
Your beauty betrays your brutality
The valleys herald your path
Fleeting white sands
Seated like stone
You don the vast horizon
Like a circumferential cloak
A blinding labyrinth
Devoid of walls
Your cracks belie your ancient heart
Once beating with vigour
A story entombed
Neath a timeless clock
Unyielding expanse
Beyond our fathom
You dare to beckon
Your gullet our home
Dr James Greenhalgh
Antarctic Medical Practitioner
Casey Station
