The Polarbear's Ways Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

It was just one more time
that he would pack his gear
and quickly kiss her lips
before he vanished in the night,
alonely shadow in the snow.
And by his side his greenland mutt
with blue Siberian eyes and playful face.

They'd get their skin this time,
such shame of failure in the past,
it hurt until today, this night a promise.

When dawn awoke to chase the midnight sun
a heavy silence had descended.
And from the valley to the foaming sea
cold tufts of winter's breath just hung
as if reluctant to disperse into the sky.

A lone and bloodied Greenland dog,
three-legged, grimacing in pain
arrived at home, all strength had gone
his master now at peace, not to return.
He died, out on the cruel ice of lethal paws
because he did not know the ways of polar bears.