"Icicles," by Anna Kvasnik
I wrote this piece in the middle of the night, awake and at least slightly cold under my covers, and looking through the slits in the blinds wondering why it was so cold in my bedroom on a warm early-fall night. My intention with this piece was for it to be readable down the icicles as well as to be read across, and for the jagged shape to speak to the emotions depicted within the poem. This is one of the first shaped poems I am proud of, and I hope there will be many more.


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