Still by L. Ward Abel

​A short memory of winter  
like childbirth they say 
sustains this oval year. 
 
A sleeping tree peers 
through window-frost 
still scares the children  
 
but so-what to icy winds: 
they’ll soon wither  
at the sight of July. 
 
That’s when the water  
barely 
moves.  


L. Ward Abel’s work has appeared in hundreds of journals (Rattle, Versal, The Reader, Worcester Review, Riverbed Review, Honest Ulsterman, others), including nominations for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web, and he is the author of three full collections and ten chapbooks of poetry, including American Bruise (Parallel Press, 2012), Little Town gods (Folded Word Press, 2016), A Jerusalem of Ponds (Erbacce-Press, 2016), and his latest collection, The Width of Here (Silver Bow, 2021).  He is a reformed lawyer, he writes and plays music, and he teaches literature. Abel resides in rural Georgia, USA.