Ice

a winter poem

imagined white skin

brittle as a buried plough,

winter stars have dragged

a sheet over poor us;

drifters along white rivers

crack the faces of pools

cold smiles and frozen steps

throw out false sunlight,

we slide accordingly on glass

to the grace of old water

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the graceful slide....oh this is a photograph, Leslie...one in vivid HD....
Yes "cold smiles" reflecting up at us in the sunlight...
really splendid phrasing...but you never disappoint....ever.
j.