Becoming Crystal

By | 1 February 2013

at Te Moeka o Tuawe (Fox Glacier)

I take my stone heart
to the river,
it moves with
all the other stones.

I slip and shear, ribs
crack like ice that makes
of the river gravel and gold
schist and carbon.

Forest’s dark green
sounds to the coast
with the dead and crystal
in their animate layers.

River collects sound
and boulder, water carries
time, leaves it, lifts it
as carcass, my becoming.

Rusty pebbles, creamy
lines of geographical age
grey and white moraine
bright icy time.

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