Thin Ice by Ellen Doré Watson

View this email on a browser Forward to a friend January 11, 2016   Thin Ice   Ellen Doré Watson

Reedy striations don’t occlude the beneath— earthy mash of leaves, flat pepper flakes, layered,   tips protruding, tender-desolate above a mirror surface, gently pressing on horse-mane, nest material,   tickle-brush, fringe. Buff block-shapes further down, ghost-bits of green-green, a lone leaf burned white.   My thrown stone skitters on ice. The next, larger, plunks through and for a moment I am a violator   but then I see it opened a bubble cell, a city, a lesion, a map—the way in cold and luminous.            Copyright © 2016 by Ellen Doré Watson. Used with permission of the author. About This Poem   “While I’m not usually bent toward the descriptive, I’m often struck by ‘the beneath,’ and this visual was arresting enough to make me want to say it. Pleasure in the ear and mouth took over, propelling me to I didn’t know where. It’s astonishing how through the writing we sometimes see more than we saw.” —Ellen Doré Watson   Ellen Doré Watson is the author of Dogged Hearts (Tupelo Press, 2010). She’s the director of The Poetry Center at Smith College and lives in Conway, Massachusetts. Poetry by Watson   Dogged Hearts (Tupelo Press, 2010) "Lake Havasu" by Dorianne Laux "Hovering at a Low Altitude" by Dahlia Ravikovitch "Morning Nocturne" by Jill Bialosky Poem-a-Day   Launched during National Poetry Month in 2006, Poem-a-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit Poets.org.   You are receiving this e-mail because you elected to subscribe to our mailing list. If you would like to unsubscribe, please click here.   © Academy of American Poets 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038