A poem by Daniel Crockett; written in response to a snow cave found above the Nupsa river, below the bowl of Geldingadaulur, in the valley of Nupsdalur, Westfjords, Iceland.
One month, more or less
Gone from your narrow cleft
Delicate slump seamed open
Web and weft of your walls sunk
The suns and stars of your roof are all yesterday’s eyes
Constellations in decline, longing left behind
A map of vanishing cities, deftly wrought
Growing as you shrunk
For a time I lived inside you, added nothing to your roar
Naked to the tapestry of your lessening
Amongst the droplets, worlds fell
The very earth itself flowed out
Your silence witness to the unknown passings of the mountain
Space as temporary as cloud, shrinking in and in
You soaked me, from inside out
Drenched, astonished with your slow departure
But perhaps you are not new at all
Cyclical, a reincarnation
Of other dreams, of other dreams