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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.