BH Two / Poetry / Poets / Writers / Writing

Anti-freeze by Matthew Harrison

Ice blocks
the city
dumped into
the Connecticut

bob in eddies
under us.
Two milky
chunks

fringed
with soot
spin in debris,
bloom

wings,
flash
through rusted
trellises

of the old
railroad bridge.
I am told
what I need

is glasses
when I point
out flight
but see

I love the soul
bang
of half-blind
magic,

when sight
falls
between
planks

into cold
black flows
and frees
doves.

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