Yet we curse her, push her towards a dark unknown of open water.
The seals have oil in their eyes. She can see their souls are departing. They smell of decay, not sustenance, not life.
Mother keeps her cubs herded close, barks when then try to explore a trembling ice floe off the shore.
She chases an Arctic fox. He's been following them for months. She loses him to the sea.
There is more noise in the arctic now, icebergs cracking, the sea roaring when it ought to be whispering.
Mother would walk with authority across the ice, now she moves with apprehension.
She is weighted with sadness, can't ignore how thin their shadows are on the snow. They haven't seen blood in days.
Her cubs are the first ice bear cubs to feel rain on their tongues
They are moving less now, sleeping more while tiny wild flowers grow.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
