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About This Poem
Microexplorers scaling an egg
The glacial slope is tall, a vast and perilous globe
It has been a whiteout for nearly three days now
We do all we can with our equipment to maintain our footing
The surface is so uncertain, but the summit is within reach
5 am, Thursday (?), We are awakened by an earthquake
An intolerably loud crack, perhaps a large chunk of opaque ice falling into the sea
Some sort of strange eclipse now, a great silver moon appears overhead
And now---now a wall of molten yellow magma approaches us!
I must stop writing and seek shelter, pray for us small men!
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