Ice Forest
Age, baby steps across the icy pond
scorpions tap-tap-tap the flesh
the sun hovers brittle and honest.
An unknown selects the spot
passages are drilled then gleaned
seasons tangle-miracles are imminent.
The line quivers, age dons a child's heart
silver thrash is coaxed into silence-
as memories flaunt their fractured crowns
...a wall, a vow, a flag encased in glass
the birth of birdsong-whispers of loves long dead.
A bird bleeds color along the shore
age thinks the truest smile
is the one performed alone.
Evening's grand candles commence
crooning a miracle's lament.
Only then does age re-enter the ice forest
leaving the pond alone but unforgotten.
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