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Arrival by air

April 26, 2019

From here, from up above,        

Great Slave unveils itself        

slowly. With patience.            

 

Late May, and the ice          

is only just beginning to

break up in places. Stubborn.  

 

Blue that is so deep and true,

and sun that spears down

onto the water. Sky-bright.

 

A far northern lake that conjures the

sensual swirl of paper marbling:

steel stylus drawn slowly through ink;

half-thoughts and fancies, scattered;

paisleys that curl conjugal into one another;

white feathers dipped, rippling in green or indigo.

This is longing that can’t be denied, as ice reaches

for land, already knowing it won’t return.

 

             This desire—a shiver,

                           a breath, hitched up.

                                       An ache.

 

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