That ice cracked: one foot put
pounds of pressure on the spot
lines of fracture scattered, a boy's foot, scarf-wound
neck, eyes popped.
At once still, a pond so still.
Instantly, ears full of splintering, sklintering
shock. Boy under ice: at five, I'm too young
scared of what it means.
Monday, February 27, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: memory