Sandra Marchetti is the author of Confluence, a debut full-length collection of poetry from Sundress Publications. Eating Dog Press also published an illustrated edition of her essays and poetry, A Detail in the Landscape, and her first volume, The Canopy, won Midwest Writing Center’s Mississippi Valley Chapbook Contest. Sandy won Second Prize in Prick of the Spindle’s 2014 Poetry Open and her work appears in The Journal, Subtropics, The Hollins Critic, Sugar House Review, Mid-American Review, Thrush Poetry Journal, Green Mountains Review, South Dakota Review, Phoebe, Southwest Review, and elsewhere.
Trace a line, fine,
around the valley’s run,
your hand rigid upon
the canopy’s brown wool, spun.
Ridges—at length—are cardboard or lakes
hung high as mirrors.
Your heels click ahead
bound after a zephyr.
Ride your eye along the bank,
slide down the forested sky
to hear through songbirds’ skittering
a coyote’s chattered cry.
The Language of Ice
Crowns of birds emerge and sink,
skid to the river in blinking beats.
Jagged as glass, ice flashes match
memories of church windows, a glacial past.
Lines of a pencil afloat mark a bobbing post,
bags beneath drift, seek their currents like fish.
Twist, the tree calls us to see roots straight to meet
concrete then broke above like floes pulled up;
a stretching shrine, bark chases the water’s
spine, a blind grasp toward glinting.
Branches reach behind their back,
trill the stream to sing
a glad racket of sounds that smack
of crowning winter’s gleam.