Thin Ice

The surface of the
lake has turned
to ice.
Fish have abandoned
the cold shallows.
It would be
spring again
to swim with them
were this mirror
between us
broken.
Were I man enough
to walk out
on my own likeness,
kick off the limbs
I could hug
for life and guidance,
dare blindness
and breathe,
I'd drown this winter
settling over me
in depths
of the lake's
green breeze.
Oh, once I were wearing
a warm fish skin,
it would take
great courage
to put it off
again.

Copyright © 2007 Randall Stiffler All rights reserved
from 32 Poems
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission