poem of the day February 11 

frozen ice

on the Deerfield

has opened

a glimpse into 

the secret 

unknown world

of never ending water

as it moves

down toward

the sea

Many including me

have spotted

the clear vertical

wall of ice

that has risen

in the middle

of the oxbow

revealing for all

the back fin of

the very illusive

almost always hidden

winding river god