First Freeze

My turned boat stuck,A dark maple hungFast in thin river ice.The early grey liftedThrough the olive marshShivering grass; the dull windBreathed bassOver the brown gelatin water, stuck logsGasped air bubblesMorning unstilled frozen teethAlong drying rock juts, beginningWater again.

A great blue craneHugged his wayUp the cove, all day I triedMaking his passingSound beating air over riverIce, with my mouth.