Bruce Dethlefsen
Honorable Mention

My boots lose purchase
as I make my down the frozen path to the little lake
where I eight years ago
I stopped to cry when my other son died

in early march little lake thaws during daytime and freezes at night
crusty oak leaves cling to shaky branches
soon pushed out and fall when spring buds bloom
I have to walk beside the icy path to gain foothold
funny how the darkened leaves
melt these perfect impressions sunk in the road

two geese honk to warn me stay away
but I make myself walk out to the middle of the lake
mindful not to slip and break the ice
I understand I could crash through
submerge and gasp to stay afloat and gulp for air
in broken ice splinters and spray
swirling downward deeply down
and still I think oh what a beautiful day
though this might be my last day on earth alive

I decide to return to shore
there are two sides to the ice
one bright and sunny warm
one dark and most coldblooded
funny how there are people here you love
and then there aren’t
how someone is
and then he’s not

I make sure my boots are under me
gain purchase and walk carefully
back to the dock this time

I think about my son my sons
I see his face their faces
I say his name their names
I hug the wooden rail
and cry goodbye goodbye