AS PLAIN AS BLACK AND WHITE
Except when the next polar vortex
Launches its ice shafts from the Arctic
The winters in northern Maine ain’t
What they used to be. Our partially frozen
Lakes no longer hold up our trucks
And fishing shacks. Our skis skid
On glazed and glistening worn-down snow.
On this first day of the new year
The Androscoggin still flows free
From Gorham east to Rumford, where
Another dam delays it long enough
For icy platelets to collect and merge
Into almost-circles of white on black,
An abstract Escher-like design or pattern
That seems to hold some urgent message
For those with eyes wide open to see.
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