Today, I sat perched atop a cold bench, my feet on the seat, my bum on the narrow back, surrounded by deep snow reflecting the whitest light.published in Ottawa by above/ground press
On the frozen lake, fishermen dipped their rods, a pickup truck drove along the track across the bay, and the wind was still.
Somewhere off to the side, my husband crouched with his camera to capture the detail of a leaf.
I looked around – at pale lichen on a tree trunk, the undulating crust of snow – until the brightness made my eyes water and squint. I tilted my head back, closed my eyes and let the sun warm my face.
From not far off, a robin sang and took flight.
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Kristina Drake writes and edits in the wilderness of East Hawkesbury, Ontario. Her poems have previously appeared in Carte Blanche, Soliloquies and Yalla!, as an above/ground press broadside, and as a Tuesday poem on Dusie.
[Produced for the above/ground press 24th anniversary reading/launch/party! Thursday, August 31, 2017]
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