People say water off a duck’s back,

but this duck is shiny with wet.
Paddling, lifts a wing, shows
a stripe of blue. She dips her face
into the lake, lifts it up shining—
beak dribbling—and all down
her throat is wet, and all down her breast,
that proud front pushing ripples
out and out, whose curve
is her muscle. That open mountain, that
expansion, that inbreath, that
heart, that most unprotected
feather palm is glistening with wet.

Author of the article

Carolyn Williams-Noren is a poet, essayist, and maker of comics. Her poetry collection, Oil Courses (Kent State University Press, 2026), reckons with her childhood close to the oil industry in Alaska. Her poems and essays have appeared in numerous journals and have earned Pushcart and Best of the Net nominations, a Best American Essays notables mention, and the support of the Minnesota State Arts Board, the McKnight Foundation, and Writing x Writers. Carolyn lives in Minneapolis, where she freelances as a copy editor and writer.