Why does it snow father?




Far from the warmth of the sun, in a frigid realm of the solar system
a billion kilometres beyond earth, lies a ball of ice called Enceladus.
A snowball’s Antarctica is pumping plumes of water reaching hundreds
of kilometres into space. Ice particles fall like fine snow, Cold
Faithful, painting Enceladus pure white. Long cracks, geologians
Tiger stripes, potential oceans, meters bellow, hidden life.
Where is the engine hidden? “there are no goblins or demons”
says McKinnon, but what does he know? No one knows why
for millions of years on Enceladus it has snowed.

Old as Bone

On a corner rests an old warrior
calloused paws hang to the ground
cropped hair not hiding many scars
In the night he sits as old as bone.

In convenient store light guarding time
he had a name, time old, another.
land unknown, time stole that
and bone and flesh and youth.

let's call him Adam or Abraham or.
couched in steel and crucifixion
his cape, the night knows him,
in these silent streets another echo.

A strength time and rip torn flesh
could not dampen or temper with
shrapnel. Speaking as the grave
with a voice that once knew joy. 

But forgot in the statistics of 
a ravaged land. in beacon breaks
and broken bones scream laughs
that echo in the night, his badge
his body and his cape,
whisper of another land.