At the Edge of the Ice

The glacier looms above me. Even across the water, it towers.  When I was younger, I had thought it was a wall and wondered what was on the other side of this titanic structure. What were we keeping out.

I am older now, and I know what the ice is. A colossal shelf rolling slowly across our planet.  Spreading like a sluggish disease over every surface.  Pushing us further every generation.  Hunting us North.

There is no living to be done on the Ice. Those that try, well... the lucky ones come back starved and broken. Most of them don't come back at all.

But every few years, someone tries again.  A group searching for the future on the frozen shelf that was once our home.  Most believe that life on the ice is our salvation. The rest of us shake our heads, and plan our children's homes a few miles North.

But some of us have noticed something.  The water is disappearing, even up north.  Some say it's just a drought, and that happens. I can't fault their hope. But I know where ice comes from.

And I know what happens to a man without water.

So I've come to stare at the doom of my species. I look across what remains of a great lake at the towering structure, narrowing my eyes to combat the sun's glare.  What did we do to deserve you, Ice?

Why must you take everything from my children?

Kieran Yanner