Friday, December 19, 2008


Originally uploaded by adriannadane

Cold that is chilling, biting, killing,
Ice that is clear and crisp and brittle.
Sky not blue but mirrors winter,
No sun to warm the frigid earth.

Mind not thinking, numb and unfeeling.
Spring come soon to melt this frost.
Coldly winter, solid forever,
Ice unmoving, hotly cold.

Touch the ice with fingers of heat.
Away they come, slick, dripping water,
Red from cold, shiny wet.

Prints remain on ice forever,
Tracts made by the fingers of heat.
Spring come soon to melt these wonders,
Terrified thoughts encased in ice.

Sleep we do until the warming.
Not moving, unthinking, captured beneath solid ice.


February, 1994

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