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:
redly-round
perfection.
Underwater creatures glistened above the snowy ground,
Tentacles twisting,
Jelly blobs hardened,
Cracked, sprinkled, licked, locked,
The layers
Elongated,
Exaggerated
Elegantly immolated.
Cold flames captured
Surprised liquids
Nope.
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.