Ice flows
in long deep breaths
out of the mountains
grinding valleys and canyons
into boulders and dust
carried, eventually, out to sea.
I pant, I flood, I flicker
and soon disappear.
Ice melts, and sinks in the rising waters
hills become islands
and continents creep
driven by shuddering gouts of lava.
We fidget at the shifting margins
swatting new mosquitoes,
evolving new rituals,
engineering new brains.
Mangroves: finished
Mangrove pneumataphores look delightful, all you need are the mosquitoes now for reality to click in. Antarctica is moving along - you can take ages over that, think how long the original took to build! Your poetry is, as always, sensitive and beautiful.
ReplyDeletefound you on etsy, so glad I did.
ReplyDeletewow, what great work!
Beautiful drifting poem and an amazing wool creation. Your photographs are always so gorgeous and I now know a heck of a lot more about mangroves than I did before.
ReplyDeleteI have a copy of The Argo & The Wahine to send to you as a gift because I have really valued seeing your work this past year - can you email me your postal address when you get a mo.
all the best, Bronwyn