There was no ice where I was born

Then the giant’s took me to the cold.


They busied:

 Prepared for games, and conquering.

Child-me stared

up at the sun…golden

 Then down

 where it turned silver in the ice covered boulders

Wrapped, dripped around…


Ice grew out over the edge of the stream

 Crept and smoothed across the grit, sand, and pebbles.


After a storm of it slew the woods with wind,

  morning emerged.

Each twig, leaf, bark hide, branch arm,

was stiff,

encased, magnified.


How could that be real?

How could it be true?

I placed my mouth on a glazed left-over apple

To test, to see…


 lips slipped over the glass case of it

sugar sweetness held away from me,

yet stepping back, I admired the presentation:




Underwater creatures glistened above the snowy ground,

Tentacles twisting,

Jelly blobs hardened,

Cracked, sprinkled, licked, locked,

The layers



Elegantly immolated. 


Cold flames captured

Surprised liquids


You’ll not flow

I’m here, and so you will wait

Until I let go.

I say when.

So just relax.


Enjoy your extension,

 reprieve from time.

Besides, I made you prettier.

Brown dead thing, now you are alive by my grace

I improved you

Made you art

Little bent stick,

Draped in my gown

You dazzle.


Now I live where there is ice

and quietly observe it day by day.

Listen closely to it’s groans and snaps

 settling on big water.

Releasing a bit, on sunny days

Until the night…

 when a starry vacuum sucks up and way any warm-dregs

And patient ice

Grips again.