Ice isn’t perfect when it’s frozen from snow


Strangers told me not to choose you
there were too many less traveled roads.
And grass that demanded flowers.
Seeds in pockets with holes in them.
And Oh, those bolts pointing to that one destination!
Crossing mumbling and humming.
I don’t understand! Don’t you get that!
But somehow it makes sense when it rains.
Pouring words with music to make us move
with that one perfect rhythm.
You made that sound so fluent.
But I have pebbles in my shoes, in my hands,
they are all slippery and edged.
But you…called and called…
I was almost lost. Going here and there.
Talking to strangers.
Dark twinings of pointless sacrifices.
Ice isn’t perfect when it’s frozen from snow.
But you never knew that. Only quiet things know.
Confused things. Otherworldly,
that’s what they called me.
A dune of black sand. Cradling starfish.
How I mattered to you, God knows…perhaps
I was like the backward currents, defeating
pushes and pulls, only reaching for what is dry
and abandoned.
I think I don’t mind….if it is so…if I am


25 thoughts on “Ice isn’t perfect when it’s frozen from snow

    • Oh, thank you so my much! You know, these poems come from my subconscious, and even I don’t always understand them, but when I dive into them and try to look a little deeper, I find a lot of meaning there, feelings and thoughts I didn’t even know I had! 😊😊. I think that is what they call poetry therapy! πŸ˜„

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