by Elizabeth Trew

Fjord came from a carving of ice
inching slowly down valley
bedrock stoppers her mouth

her long limpid body of water
mingles glacier melt, inlet sea
bounded by mountains

her horizon sheers high as vision plumbs deep
soft body brooding shattered rock
scarred peaks, rolling hills

she ruffles her spectrum of colours
floats in her glass shifts of silver
grey green gold blue purple black

shuffles down her root girdle
scours her caves clutching at sea-salt

lies valley bound
tempered and still
deeper than the sea outside


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