Tree-fan

She is the bareness
Of a winter tree
seen blazing palely
from the road home.

its branches fanning out across the aching blue sky
like small bones.
structuring the intricacy
of a truth.

She is the waves that collide in the Labrador Sea
Sand floor resonating with the water
In a hum that sounds for miles.

Turbulent, unresolved.

The cold Arctic Ocean seethes with life
Deep below the ice.
The strange creatures living there, in the dark -
Do not welcome the new cartography
The submarine-borne scientists would impose like a template
on their primal home.

Like a poem
Pulled from the depths of her
Fights
Being given a name.

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