Dark still. Twelve degrees below freezing. Tremor along the elegant, injured right front leg of the gelding on the cross-ties. Kneeling girl. The undersong of waters as she bathes the leg in yet more cold. [tongue is broken] [god to me] Her hair the color of winter wheat.
Reproduced with the permission of Houghton Mifflin Company. Copyright © 2002 by Linda Gregerson. All rights reserved.
Date Published: 2002-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/narrow-flame