Nashawannuck
another freezing-weather poem
Nashawannuck
All ice, the pond is rough
with half-sunk sticks,
branches, a past season’s detritus.
The mangled calligraphy
made legible
by a gathering silence. Now snow
sweeps out across the pond
aligned with a field
aligned with a cemetery, seamless—
seamless
as though a world
were there to be unwritten.
"as though a world
were there to be unwritten."
These last lines are stellar!
I love the allusion to calligraphy and writing in this poem. It's true how ice records the passage of summer with the leaves and twigs