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July 2, 2008

A windless freeze
sets the lake early this year,
black ice.

Stare down hard
into this watery clearing
and see all the way to springtime:

leaves become trees that sway,
fish crouch in their bones awaiting
the iridescent thaw,
pollen, roe, and eggs hatch into
raucous food.

I watch my husband and son skate
in and out of another winter,
their itineraries marked in scrapings,
accompanied by croaking ice
and the shadow of crows.

by Lynne Shapiro

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  1. Becky Ellis
    July 2, 2008 at 10:06 pm

    Love the rasp and birth and darkness winding among one another. Crisp. Last two lines are a hugely satisfying conclusion.

  2. July 3, 2008 at 2:20 am

    beautiful imagery, beautifully written and I too love the ending…

  3. Rose
    July 9, 2008 at 6:20 pm

    Love the true nature and that I can hear the poets voice. Wonderful!

  4. Rhoda Weber Mack
    July 12, 2008 at 2:05 pm

    Strong, evocative word pairings–the particular and the large revealing one another.

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