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      December 27, 2016Reeling in a Skate on Kachemak Bay, AlaskaSusan Elbe

      We drop bait and jig down eighteen fathoms,
      trolling bottom for the halibut they say
      are white and big as jib sails full of wind.
      We drift this way all morning and I watch the men
      pull up 30-pounders and sometimes
      scaly Irish Lords, lustered as fool’s gold.
      Drugged by the surprising warmth of this
      ellipsed and argent Arctic light, I am amazed
      when my line drags taut and in my hands
      the heavy rod dips like a heron bends to drink.
      I reel and reel, pulling up my own weight,
      heavy as wet canvas. The men say to go slowly,
      it will roll in fear and dive from foreign sun—
      this fish has never seen the light. But who knows
      what I’ve snagged from sodden sleep,
      what blunt-eyed creature I haul out of darkness,
      a ghostly harbinger that wavers toward me
      like an insubstantial scrap of paper,
      becoming larger as it nears. Too tired to resist
      the last few feet it seems to help,
      ascending easily, entranced by this bright world.

      from Issue #16 - Winter 2001

      Susan Elbe

      “For me, writing poems has always been as much a spiritual practice as it has been a source of great pleasure. In answer the the question, ‘Where is the soul?’ Gary Zukav replied that the real question is, ‘Where isn’t the soul?’ Writing poems is for me the process of discovering and articulating the soul in all its wonderful shapes. It is the process that nurtures, sustains, and teaches me.”