At the edge of the quiet Arctic breath,
Where sea-ice hums like a slow prayer,
Uummannaq rises, stone and myth,
A heart-shaped peak in frozen air.
Dogsleds whisper across the white,
Carving echoes through powdered time,
Children laugh in half-daylight,
While the fjord sings its northern rhyme.
Homes like brushstrokes brave the chill,
Colors bold against winter's hush,
As though to say, "We are here still,"
Living poems in a glacier’s blush.
The sun dips like a secret kept,
Moonlight dancing with ghostly seals—
A land of dreams the earth has slept,
But even silence here reveals.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Author’s Note:
This poem was written in response to a suggestion from Michael Fromm, one of the winners of a recent poetry competition I hosted on Vocal. Michael proposed a beautifully open-ended prompt: to throw a proverbial dot at a map and write a poem inspired by wherever it landed.
The dot landed on Uummannaq, Greenland—a remote island town beneath a heart-shaped mountain. I knew almost nothing about it before this, but the landscape, the stillness, and the contrast between harsh climate and vibrant life invited the poem in.
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