[ An ice pane on the creek ]

By James Reidel

An ice pane on the creek,
Still thin and brittle,

With the bubbled,
Imperfect jewels and spines of trapped air,

Frozen ripples —
This prescription glazing a pool

For reading the drowned leaves,
Potsherds of broken shale,

Darting minnows that live like your eyes,
Cold and wet.