andrew kazmierski
At 10
by Steve Deutsch

When
it’s very clear

and very cold
my mind makes room

for recollection.
Images

hidden for fifty
years crisp

as that first step
on snow

flash-sealed
by an unearthly freeze.

I’m ten
and my dad and I

have stepped into
the silence

of an iced-in
avenue.

The sycamore limbs
mummified

in sheathes of clear
crystal.

Just for today
I am

the only son
and even

that first stab
of arctic air

is reason
to rejoice.

First published by Hamilton Stone Review.

PHOTO: Ice-covered sycamore tree branches in Bryant Park with the Empire State Building in the background, New York City. Photo by Andrew Kazmierski.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I remember walking out of the tenement hallway with my dad so clearly. He is proud of me and that makes has made me very happy. It’s a very visible image—which is unusual for me.

steve deutsch

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Steve Deutsch has been widely published. He is poetry editor of Centered Magazine. Steve was nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize. His chapbook, Perhaps You Can, was published in 2019 by Kelsay Press. His full-length books,  Persistence of Memory and Going, Going, Gone, were published by Kelsay Press. Find more of his work at stevieslaw.wordpress.com.