Downstream from the Quad Cities Generating Station,
a train of steam rolls over the surface
of the Mississippi. A four below zero,
the wind is chill as a razorblade on my tongue,
a communion wafer of high carbon steel. I walk with my collar
pulled up and my head held down
and my face held together in gloved hands.
Wind pushes clumps of snow off branches and in midair
they disintegrate into particles of diamond glass. I cannot see
the water below the rolling conflagration
of its conflict with the air, its long train of ghostly flames
lifting off Moline. Only I am out walking today
above my uncle’s house, strings of geese draped
overhead like prayer beads.
Cameron Morse lives with his wife Lili and son Theodore in Blue Springs, Missouri. His poems have been published in over 100 different magazines. His first collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press’s 2018 Best Book Award. Visit his Website, or Facebook page, for more information.