Iciness - Poem by Ivona Sophia
I gave up studying Icelandic.
there are fourteen vowels in their alphabet.
my mouth goes dry after a few words.
there is no place I could practice it.
maybe during the one day when winter
really happens here, just for a few hours
find a secluded place between two cities
buried temporarily in snow repeat words
which can be useful next time we meet,
and you will bring me a frozen rose with
petals already dead. we will exchange
a few smiles. you will fix my scarf
with your cold fingers, and I will repeat
those new words I learned just to impress you
and forget them the next day.
from a plane’s window our island
looks like a bed with white satin sheets.
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye