To describe how rain touches morning in Iceland—
where St. Christopher often leads travelers
in spring—is to cross the impossible
bridge between water to drink
and water that drowns.
If you’re lonely enough, if you listen,
the wind will convince you, in its human-like
sadness—to open the windows
and let something in.
Watch as it lifts above the ice—
the unforgiving element—white
Remember, you too know something
about snow's passage to water:
how everything trembles when moving
from one form to another—how soon,
it is water that slicks your eye—
each lash burning
to put the fire out.
- Alex Dimitrov
"White Fire" was printed as a broadside, in an edition of 100 by The Center for Book Arts in New York City, in October of 2009. To purchase a broadside click here.
(published in Best New Poets 2009, and diode, Fall 2009 )