 | | Taylor Graham
Glaciers
When your daughter began to color
a topographic map of the Kahiltna Glacier,
how could she know what everlasting ice
lay between the squiggly contour lines?
She chose a vibrant yellow, a shade
that smudges gray
from magic markers rubbed too long
over a xerox copy.
You were just waking
from the sweet-molasses dreams
of seven years of marriage, an instant
in a glacier’s view,
to look down on your daughter
coloring. From a raven’s perspective
of outstretched wings, see
how a glacier
assumes the form of fingers;
of interlocking arms, pursed lips
that seem, at first,
to be kissing –
as if a multitude of fevered
bodies
merged, began to separate,
and froze.
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