Friday From the Journal – Frozen Like a Statue

Today we bring you the Third Place Winner in the Fine Fines Poetry Contest


Frozen like a Statue


My teeth chatter against each other,

like a beaver gnaws on wood.

I’m frozen from my toes

to the tips of my auburn hair,

frostbitten to the very depths of my soul

battered by icy, bitter wind,

as Christ of the Deep withstands currents

and growth of marine life within its matter.

Icicles have formed on my eyelashes,

the only part of me not swaddled like a babe,

unshielded from the ruthless air,

as statues in open-air bear the brutal weather

that sears their foundations,

and cracks the stone.


My scarf whisks away from my neck,

yearning to break free,

to soar o’er the jagged, snowy mountain,

like Christ, held captive

by shifting sands and anchored by barnacles.

Tugging on my scarf, protecting my face,

I choke on the arctic bite of the air,

the bitterness cuts through my cracked lips

like saltwater on a wound,

then dig my poles into the freshly packed snow.


For a moment they are trapped;

and I am frozen like a statue,

Christ of the Deep trapped in the murky depths of silt,

yet instead of awaiting my doom,

I grasp the poles

like Christ reaching for the heavens,

I extinguish the cold soaked marble of my snow-sculptured figure.

Launching my gelid skis towards the distant lodge,

I carve ribbons into the icy snow,

like Michelangelo,

setting free the angel in the marble.

By Anne James

Author Bio:

Anne James works as a research lab technician in the department of Medical Microbiology and Immunology at Creighton University. She completed her B.S. in biology and French at Creighton. In her free time, Anne enjoys writing poetry, playing the trombone, knitting, and scuba diving.