At one with the landscape

Mueller describes, the journey over Elephant Island, by Shackleton, Worsley and Crean (p 58):

They plod on, tied together.

The mist, the moonlight, and the snow become one

substance; the men step into a glowing

nothingness and are jolted at each step…

when the nothingness goes solid underfoot.

…Each hauls his live breath
in and out and heard his heartbeat clubbing
in his ears. Snow creaks like a carriage wheel
under their feet.

They are scraps of fog toiling through the fog…

Speed slams their hearts
shut, yanks their breath out by its roots and howls
a maelstrom past their ears…