Lately, I feel that I haven't been able to really finish any work. Over the last month or so I've written a great number of short, sort of fragmentary pieces, but only one that has been relatively conclusive. What I am posting here is another of these fragments. Maybe someone can give me insight as to what I should do with it.
POEM
The cove-thicket water is frozen a foot deep.
Deer prints mark a path in the snow.
I step onto the lake, let my
rubber boot-soles clop on the surface,
listen for silence.
Beneath my feet flit the backs
of death-cold salmon,
in the light of a white-wall sky...
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