Otters

I wait for the river to freeze solid

above the dam, that’s when, I’m told

the otters come to slalom over

they say the workers building

the glassed-in porch barely worked

for watching, just as I do

sleek slithery bodies in oiled pelts

racing toward & bellying down

scrambling out to do it again

half the day I stand at the window

scan the snow-covered plain

in summer the river flows green

under the snow the ice is green

current sucks floating islands

under the shore-to-shore ice

run, rise, freeze — open water

above the dam is small & smaller

any day now, I’ll see them