Glacier Bay
T’was merely hundreds of years ago that Glacier Bay was clogged
By ice that stood two thousand feet above the shore and bog
But then it lost its faithful foot, its terminal moraine
And broke up into icebergs, giving Icy Straits its name.
So now the year is two thousand three,
And we have all come here to see,
The mighty glaciers that survive,
And the moose that in these forests thrive!
The sun did rise at six o’clock but hid its blazing face
Behind the veil of fog and cloud that hung o’er every place.
Through it, the blue and white of ice loomed luminous and tall
As Margerie Glacier roared its thunderous iceberg-birthing-call.
John’s Hopkins fjord was crowded, full of seals and mountains high
And the pleasant view of cobalt ice from fissures deep and wide.
Our souls content, we slipped below for a culinary feast
While the Captain scanned the land above for signs of hairy beasts!
At last the call was whispered as we entered Sandy Cove
“There be moose at 9’oclock, a cow with calves not old!”
And then to cap it off we visited the Marble Isles
Where the puffin flights and pinniped sights reduced us all to smiles.
(Not to be forgotten are the salmon, sweets and wine
and the concert the ‘Alaska Five’ performed that was divine,
the kids made tracks of plaster using sand and rocks and things
and painted landscapes dark and bright bedecked in flukes and wings,
and then there’s Chris who talked to us on ecology and such
while the sun broke through in red and gold to add a final touch!)
