Humana Obscura Issue #01 (Fall/Winter 2020)

Page 74

MARCH BECK ANSON The lake froze over for the first time in three years. On a pass off the psych unit I walked out to the breakwater, leaving tracks in the snowcovered ice & stood, humbled. April, the lake slowly thawed under the sun & a strong gale blew surface water south while close to shore thin ice shelves floated on gentle streams & I watched

jagged shapes recede like a quilt coming undone. Listen — have you heard the song of ice melting in a warm liquid, the cracking? Pressure unloads from the surface & grows while the core tries to stay the same. May, the doctor said my head just needs to catch up with the rest of my body, expanding.

BECK ANSON (he/him) is a queer and trans emerging writer whose work weaves together gen-

der, sexuality, and mental health, often using the natural landscape of his surroundings as the backdrop. He holds two degrees in botany from the University of Vermont. He lives in Burlington, Vermont.


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