Tuesday, 22 April 2014


Paths wind and meander
through passes made from ice and saga;
a fierce and fragile beauty.

Moss, greener than growth ,

covers volcanic rock;
spills onto damp paper
-circles in Icelandic clay.

Light, white as time/

soft as morning;
stillness atop ancient triangles.

Feathers on wet basalt

as time refracts off
blue spring;

You stand beside a map of glacial water

as I collect elements
in my ice cold hands.

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