Wednesday, March 12, 2014



Conditions are essential in this interstitial place:
a degree or two lower, and the melt becomes slick--
warmer, and the drip is a rushing brook.

We imagine it as linear, but the thaw hovers,
fractals, spirals,
sculpting miniature caves
with stalactites and stalagmites
more surreal than the ones chipped from
our children's imaginations.

I am drawn to the variations in ice, to the delicate crust that
shatters at the slightest pressure,
to the thicker spots where bubbles
have been trapped mid-rise, offering
fantastic patterns and refractions in
translucence and transparency,
to the stained-glass crazes that must be mathematical.

My children test these surfaces with me,
slipping, breaking, cracking, smashing.

Underneath, the constant background sound of flow
is oddly comforting,
a pulse that we can only take
in the waiting rooms of spring.
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  1. Funny...

    I created a poem doc on my computer yesterday called "thaw"...

    Hope it is thawing by you. We had another ~8 inches of snow last night/today.


  2. Beautiful! And I love to see you on here. Thanks for sharing.


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