THE POND
February 14, 2018
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Written by Debra Nystrom, Professor, Creative Writing Program, Department of English, College and Graduate School of Arts & Sciences
A little cool, you think,
then the iron-scent takes you in,
you leave your feet and let it—
early summer chill easing its ripple
across your chest as if this water
never held a body other than yours
—silk, silty touch, thick with
minerals that knew you before
your body was body at all—was
nothing, pure impulse, wanting to be
taken, known, sweet-weight lifted
alone out to the dark middle,
place you always knew, as it knew
you would find yourself here, wet,
untethered, eyes closed, forgetting.
-Debra Nystrom
Night Sky Frequencies: New and Selected Poems
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