The poem offers a kaleidoscope of images that reflect and mirror life-fierce blizzard, the twilight, the golden rays of the sun, huddled penguins, a baby in his mother’s arms et al.
The fierce blizzard stopped,
And work done,
And civil twilight filled the sky,
With golden rays
that change to shades of blue
As I sat in smokers' hut.
At dusk, when penguins sleep
Standing in a waddle
Bills tucked under wings,
A baby born in this hostile place
Sleeps soundly in his mother’s arms
Gently cooing–safe and warm
But alien life cannot remain
But be collected like so much ash
And borne away unto a distant land.