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.