Monday, March 28, 2016

Melting: A Boundary Waters Poem


Spring thaws
come in happy hours
within the cold grip
of ice so tired and deliberate
that one ski may float
over and the trailing ski
break through.

One short night might
wake from sleep to a morning of
free current, while
another slip to the darker
side of new ice made.
Below, encouraged;
our thoughts bubble.

One steps with furtive glances
to the shores we’ve
left behind, in favor of
the unknown, the yet-
to-unfold. The mallard pair
guarding the edges of
summer, of tomorrow
and open water.

His green head my own
nodding and diving, looking
underneath for sustenance
and your shadow
lost on winter’s waining
notes. Her hidden brown
feathers only true
against the failed ice.
Waiting for the moment
of anonymity when
she fades into

©Timothy James Stouffer 03282016
All Rights Reserved Ely, MN

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