Ice Play
peppery on naked oaks,
tadpoles of feisty sun.
they scamper off,
boisterous in their bevies,
renegades amok, mischief ardent,
through swaying gales
frozen of primrose and goldenrod.
illimitable landscape of glassy whips.
dawn comes seraphic and gossamer.
noon a mortalized bliss.
and yet the finale, the red horizon,
succumbs to purple nightshade.
onyx in the end.
onyx haunts the crystallized branches,
fashionable as the hairdos of hydras.
these lolling creatures, they only half remember
the drama of their sauvignon tears.
moonless now
now so moonless …
no, a pomegranate moon,
goddess of brittle tongues in a basin of wind.
if they could only taste a scintilla
of that castaway glimmer, they might ...
stars!
so brief the stars,
wish seeds, nubilous,
above the frosty grounds.
what oasis the darkling dome?
what desert?
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