Jun 172014

Kathleen Nalley


I’d be forged by ice

segregation, a-

brasion, glacial e-

rosion. Sill or shoal

at the mouth. Reef or

skerry. I’d be a

menace to navi-

gation, a gener-

ous fishing ground, a

glacially long val-

ley with terminal

moraine. Trapped between

mountain, I’d rush as

tidal current or

saltwater rapid,

and finally be

that long, narrow arm

of the sea, wonder-

ously beautiful,

remarkably deep.