Poet no more

"Battlefield of Love" is some kind of good poetry from a few days - no, a few weeks - ago. Here is something that I have written recently that may have a few poetic techniques in it. Enjoy. THE ICE WOMAN "Everybody all right back there?" The pilot questioned his crew, which was made up of m dad, a young man, and me, with his mighty southern accent. The pilot was a stout, bearded man. A striped tie that was tucked under his jacket ever so neatly and round eyeglasses that magnified his pupils finished the look of a rich elf. "Yes," the young man replied. "YES!" my dad hollered (which truly embarrassed me). "Yes..." I groaned, yawning so much that my eyes became a wet, fogged-up ball. Luckily, the pilot didn't hear the hitch in my voice, and kept looking forward with his bright, yellow smile. I was as worried as i was excited. The four of us were in a cherry-colored helicopter. You wouldn't look twice at the elegant figure and expect that it would take a long trip across the city of Ketchikan, Alaska, in order to read the highest and greatest glacier of all time...but that was our goal. Throughout the ride, the pilot kept flashing facts at us about Ketchikan and the overall Alaskan environment. I was half-listening, staring blankly at his jabbering mouth. The other half of me was wandering off into another world, flashing questions to itself instead of answers. Why did my dad force me to go on a GLACIER? What if I don't survive? I knew that it was going to be a long and horrible ride. My cheeks were squished intensely against the cold, glossy windows as my eyes shifted to the outside world. Ketchikan was like a snowglobe; any person, genius or total dweeb, could look at the plain, minuscule city for the longest time and still not understand every single detail. The tiny town that lay beneath us was a clutter of gingerbread houses. The large mountains that I carefully observed were the majestic view that the "Gingerbread People" loved all their lives. Finally, the clouds in the sky were a soft wool blanket, tucking the world away from the harmful sun. Oh, how I wanted to touch such an attractive world, but it was only a moment, and before the blink of an eye it would disappear. As the dream faded away, I felt out sickening descent onto the glacier. The whole view changed completely, from the peaceful snowglobe landscape to a sea of blue ice that looked like defected bubble wrap. All of the worried feelings that came to me at the beginning of the ride returned when I least wanted it to come. "Okay, folks, we're landing!" the pilot shouted as if he were President of the united States. I wanted to laugh out loud, but I held it in as hard as I could. When the helicopter FINALLY stopped whirring and whirring, the pilot handed each of us extra socks, a hiking stick, and five puffy jackets. "When y'all get older," the pilot whispered to me suddenly, "and yer pants are as tight as mine, you can't put bric-a-brac in a knickknack box no more, especially in this weather, or else it'll freeze 'em up just like that." He snapped his fingers so that it sounded like he just dropped a textbook from a 30-story building. "So those jackets right there are just some extra places to put your cellphone and all, ya har?" For some reason, the man turned to me and winked the kind of winks you see in the movies. It sure was scary to me. I almost stumbled when I took my first step onto the glacier. For some reason, even through the thick, mushy soles of my hiking boots I could feel the frigidity of the ground. Luckily, my hiking stick lunged forward and held me in place - just before I fell headfirst onto the ground. As I walked across the glacier, I spotted a few gaps in the floor. They were probably about 60 feet deep or more, and they led to anywhere you could imagine but here. It was like we were in a virtual video game, and if you died in this game, you died for real. The farthest thing from my mind at that time was to go forward even a tiny baby step, but a feeling that felt like a stab in the back of my head forced me to move on. I was suddenly reminded of a book I read about a 5000-year-old skeleton that was nicknamed Otzi the Iceman. He died in the Alps while hiking because he failed to find food, shelter, and water before he got killed. A few modern-day hikers found him buried under a huge pile of snow. I shuddered the moment I thought of that. Would I go up, find shelter, and live peacefully with the wolves if I got lost? Or will i die just as the Iceman did and become the Icewoman instead? Our tour guide Sharon explained a few parts about the glacier. "This is a frozen pool that was discovered in the mid-1900s by Alaskan archaeologists. Although it is currently empty, it held many artifacts of the far past that assisted scientists about our state's strange reputation and history. People used to think that the glaciers were a shrine made of marine-blue marble that shone on the birth date of God..." What else she said I never knew, but suddenly I made a new decision. I ran. I wanted to feel the ice walls that surrounded the helicopters and us. I wanted to observe the deep gaps in the ice. I heard a call behind me: "CHERIE! DON'T GO THERE!" But it was too late. I was already enjoying everything. Why would I have to dislike such a beautiful glacier when it's right there in from of me - and for only that one time? "I just wanted to tell you, Cherie," Sharon began, "that it's time to go." "WHAT?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. ************************************************************ The ride back to the regular Ketchikan town was just as horrible as the ride to the glacier, unlike how I expected it to be. However, I do not regret what I did. At least I took the chance to explore one of he Alaskan "wonders of the state" and become the youngest and greatest person who would ever set foot on the glacier...and perhaps, if Sharon hadn't rushed everyone onto the helicopter, I could've died peacefully and, 5000 years later, be found as the new and improved Icewoman.