Jeffrey Dreiblatt


for Albrecht Dürer

She wished she could crack the code.
Words barely seen.
Like ice on a river
or a windshield smashed
turning left out of her driveway.

Names of states followed by numbers:
Arizona 11
Melancholia 23
Fascination 7

Tomorrow it would make sense.

In the morning
she wakes to a blue sky
that could belong to summer
or winter
and asks
what did that mean?

She drives past the pond
where every goose seen flying overhead
this season
in the still-unfrozen center.

The river ahead narrows.
Icy banks
grab free flowing water
as if to say rest for a while.

Jeffrey Dreiblatt is a poet, visual artist and volunteer fireman. He lives in the Hudson Valley and Brooklyn, New York.