An orange carp was stuck in the ice. It had been there for days — nicked by skates and pecked apart by crows until its scales had scattered like the particles of an exploded star or the essence that envelops a marigold. I remember thinking of the other fish swimming beneath the ice, how the carp’s diminishing shadow must trouble and comfort them both.
Charles Rafferty’s poems have appeared in The New Yorker, O, Oprah Magazine, The Southern Review, and Prairie Schooner. Currently, he directs the MFA program at Albertus Magnus College.
Featured image on this post © Bennett North. Author photo © the author.