Mike Subritzky


The Snow – So many differing shades of white.
The Ice – So many colours of blue, and green.
The Sky – A perfect brilliant panorama, uncluttered by mole-hill, mound or mountain.
The Sound – No sound, animal, bird, man or machine; not even the whisper of a breeze.

I am alone in the white wilderness of the South Pole
the world’s last frontier
freeze-framing a memory
while ice silently hardens into my beard,
and the corners of my mouth.