A Stilled Life
A frost-charred Ash limb
casts a stark arm above a creek.
Soundless waters languish
untouched by dazzle or shade,
all is a petrified stillness
etched upon
only a reverie of motion.
Snow hangs in the air
unmoved by any breath,
if a twig is snapped now
the sky might break.
Raw fingers
clutch an ice-gnawed pebble,
I could throw it,
cast a counter-spell
to shatter this moment
as if it were a static vision
in a brittle mirror,
instead, I enter the stillness -
grasp the biting stone
like a deathless diamond.
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