Ice Poem by Susan McMaster

Where the river sluices under a sheen of ice
come way too soon - what I still can't bear
knocks me out the door,
to the river's brink.

Orange lamps
from the opposite shore
bar the black.

Moonlight cuts.
Far below, water hisses.

Take one step forward -
pillars rise -
shafts of mist on the water's spine.

One step back -
they drop - no more
than cracks in ice.

Forward -
back -
forward -
listen -
who whispers there?
(too late
too soon)
moonlight shifts
(almost lips
almost arms)

I step back
turn.

Glitter breaks
beneath my feet.