Poemetry: Iceberg

Broken from a greater glacier,

frozen and salt-branded, I float.

Through ocean and misty vapors,

avoided by sporadic boat,

I long neither for warm ice floes

nor frigid waters surrounding,

for neither belt nor bight nor coast,

crackling crack nor silence sounding.

I pray for tropic waters’ maw

swallowed in their thinning thaw.

Was I more when I began?

Why now am I nothing more than

a massive mass of minute worth

wishing for a melted birth?

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