Poetry: “Crackle” by Joshua Wetjen

I sprinkle
a plastic cup
of salt
on the
icy,
ribboned,
lacey,
slippery
sidewalk.

Cold
prickles my face.
Ice crackles,
like laughter and small talk
at a gathering party.

Then,
the sun appears.
Pink salt crystals,
dissolve, invisible, except on
the toe of my left boot—a white
streak over the scuffed
brown leather.

I want to remind myself
how the conversation in the frozen
morning really happened.

Joshua Wetjen is a high school English teacher living in Minneapolis and working in St. Paul. When not grading or chasing his two children, he likes to play jazz guitar and try new restaurants with his wife. His work has appeared in Atticus Review, Newfound and Yalobusha Review among other publications.