“Thaw Marks” by Michael Goodfellow
Poetry Pause is the League of Canadian Poets’ daily poetry dispatch. Read “Thaw Marks” by Michael Goodfellow.
Thaw Marks
By Michael Goodfellow
In winter, the impossible was true
like a fairytale of how things were
before the ice melted.
Anything could be spoken.
Any form could be made.
A pit suspended above the ground.
At the bottom,
wet soil mixed with snow.
Beyond, snow stomped
with boots and nailed boards, tossed,
tar papered against rot.
At the edge of the lawn
a brook named after a body,
ground fed and sourceless.
Water rushed the colour of snow.
Air burrow, sky cellar.
It held for weeks, then months
sheltering junco and mourning dove,
swallowing light.
Then the season changed.
The new wood cured.
The porch was boarded up
and people passed over.
In April only the practical seemed real.
Frost heave, false memory.
Our dreams no longer flitted
the far edge of desire
except for the dark of warmed woodโ
ground shelter, frost hulled.
A grave boarded over.
Beams lodged in packed soil.
Below,
a gasp-shaped hollow.
Copyright ยฉ Michael Goodfellow
Previously published in Event.
Michael Goodfellow is the author of Meadow Work (Gaspereau Press, 2026).
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