How Puddles and Lakes are Made

Glacial mounds melt and uncover alluvial remains where rivers under ice flowed carrying sediment over asphalt --

a mixture of mud and ice arcing up against the curb -- in places the plow 

sunk into gravel and tore up ground.

The mound is mud-heavy under spring; 

warming rains and splashing tires turn

the purest white to speckled black. 

Tulips and ice mixing, and 

           it is spring

hurrying back; the long march over mud and 

     yellow-green grass; 

The ice looses ground 

taking with it a little

piece of 

everyt

hin

g.

 

As i sit waiting, my breath condensing

on the car window, i perceive the minuscule

motions of the scene; the masses moved

by melt water, the relocated bits of trash

and mud. I wonder what must your massive, icy, ancestors

have taken with them on there long retreat into nothing.

 

Reviews

[Samuel Ferris]

some things can't be reversed. :)

[Ed Hart]

it's never nothing; it's only "over there"...

[Francesca]

This is a good poem, I like how you took something like the formation of puddles and lakes and made it something beautiful with words. i don't know if you meant to do this, but i feel like the first few lines and the last few lines could be more poetic, instead of sentence-like, to match how structured and nicely sounding as the rest of the poem. but i especially liked
"hurrying back; the long march over mud and
yellow-green grass;"
altogether very beautiful word choices and great description :)