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Blue Comet

And rains of the overcoat Sleighing safely- in Nuuk a place of burning refuge Days upon water on ice Feelings for venture Sequenced to night And the stars on offer Light our track Eyes locking- to an overbound comet The pattern and path Dreaming parallel Inspiredly- homing our range Feelings of mercy On the young, frail ground A pair of tiny whiskers Noted for style and senses at night Batches in order for lessons of peer Handheld with bells and mobiles And a crane and a comet

Could this be the one? Our new home? Murderous into They were here and left nothing But other people

Tidings and things The little bee That collected our signatures For the airlock Fortunes could be

The Americans are gone

Things with wings And clouds of twinflower and rain With no septic fear There is snow And we hurried still As before When we were new But not yet Danes And proud of the distance And we filled our stomachs With the fruits of our neighbour Selling beans and ochre and kale In return for no thing

The sustenance America brought Was nothing like the urge To send them packing

And the Danes won- as before Hiding hope just in case And we named them a fjord Our best Man and his day For the beautiful news We are new And renewed A new sense of home.