We remember the treacheries of Our previous steps on this road when The ice's solidness promised us support. We are remembering how It's rocks and trees that Bind this road to our feet and It's downward it leads us the same as The ice that takes us too fast. We are going to the ice bound river. Where it will assault the grass and trees. In spring there it will break free Then it will conquer the meadow Water will subdue the stones. The grass is golden in winter. I treasure the blades Piercing the metal I treasure their straightness Their softness on the meadow. I treasure the life each promises, The life hidden today in the roots of this ice. I treasure the snails and pupae and worms And the green scents of next summer Bouying the birds that swoop and soar Swiveling between the strongboxes of ice. Although ice is a selfish solid Every lock eventually unlatches. I see ice and sky. A gunshot haunts the far away. A hovering slips behind the trees.