gills of ground come away
reveal the skin of another beast
the trowel’s edge catches a chink of ivory or stone
detached from permafrost
a carving sees light
as light hangs on to the horizon’s mound of sifted
earth upheaving evading eroding
a vertical edge colonised and deconstructed
who carves this weathered landscape
when the bears sleep and the wind forgets to scare
the ground squirrels into hiding?
beating the rusted scrap metal like an icy drum
the object clasped in hand
a ceremonial handle in ritual dance of becoming
the task taken from the creature and transformed
to open a fissure in space-time
for the more-than-human
to sneak in and settle
on the village in the people
in shared salmon berries
shared with us too
the flow of tendrilled water through country
outwards towards aurora
where a woman counts down to tide time
to erasure time tapping the trowel
to the drum of returning ice water
shaking and settling the cold carving
