A Moment of Silence After Words Spoken in Anger by Carol Knox

I met Carol Knox in the Goose Hollow Inn when I worked there in 1978. She heard I was planning to start Cold Eye and contributed this fine poem, which knocked me out in 1978 and remains one of my favorites from the tabloid.


During the night
a small cold wind grows
into a Northeaster.
The pond freezes so
quickly the goldfish hang suspended.
You can look down through the ice and see them,
caught in gleaming arcs perfect
as an infant’s fingernails.
It takes the space of several heartbeats to
realize they are already dead.


Carol Knox



TS