Yesterday afternoon I was thrilled to be a part of the Spring Honors Assembly at Hillsdale College. Conducted once a year, this ceremony provides the college’s various departments with an opportunity to recognize a few of their students and give out awards and scholarships. Some of the awards require applications from students and others don’t, but all recipients are individually selected by the faculty members.

The English department offers quite a number of awards, some as prizes in the college’s annual creative writing competition, and others as academic scholarships. Last year, I was honored to receive two creative writing prizes, one for poetry and the other for prose. This year, I again entered a couple of fiction pieces in the writing contest, and I also submitted applications for a scholarship.

Long story short, I was so excited to learn this week that I’d won a poetry award as well as an academic scholarship! I’m so grateful both to the English faculty who selected me (and several of my amazing peers) and to the donors who made all of the awards possible. I was able to catch a picture with one of my wonderful English professors, Dr. Dwight Lindley, who presented the awards yesterday. Many thanks to him and the other faculty members!

Interestingly, I received the very same poetry prize both last year and this, the Ambler Literary Award, named after its donor Mrs. Margaret Ambler. This year, the poem I entered was my sonnet “Delivery,” which I posted on the blog last December. The poem I submitted a year ago, however, I haven’t shared here before, so I thought I’d show you that piece. Entitled “Icicle,” it seems fitting right now, considering the wintry weather we’ve been having (at least here in Michigan!). I hope you enjoy reading it.

Icicle

Flickers of thaw fall,
flinging tiny light-streaks
through the mirrored air:
Within the pointed prism
white embers glisten,
smoldering hoary bright.
Forged flecks of water
meld with melting frost
and vapor crystallized.
On the softened ice cusp
the beaded sparks linger,
glitter, shiver, and then
for one moment pause
in sheer glinting stillness,
poised for a deep plunge.

© February 2016, Rachelle Ferguson