From your crow’s nest no opening in sight
to allay your restless oscillations;
men, dogs, one cat, trapped in unrelieved white,
crushed by floes and hopeless expectations.
You drift for months through half grey frozen light
wintering this wilderness, crew weary
of fearful creaks and groans that plague each night.
Your seams crack at last, screaming an eerie
obbligato. Masts crash, dogs howl with fright
and pumps churn in your bowels for no reward.
Shackleton orders all out on the ice:
Hurley cranks me up again to record
your final throes. My epic film, sealed tight
in double tins, will one day be restored.
