Marilynn J. Rudi
Frazil and Anchor Ice
The river was a dark and predatory thing
we were warned to stay away.
With its crash and tumble, it was colder than cold.
Its turbulence drove surface ice down
where it floated, fine spicules in the brine.
Sometimes crystals stuck to what
we could only guess at:
submerged logs, boulders, dreaming fish with rows
of needlelike teeth, turtles,
arrowheads, anchors.
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