I Can Hear the Crack Within

fragile steps of
the old across
ice hips shiver
in the sharp wind
o why do I
falter so to
make my next move
the hesitant
ebb and rush of
my troubled mind’s
storm surges past
each cold-blue thought
like water through
a levee’s breech
I long to lay
across a slow
glacier’s flow and
wait to be dropped
without choice piece
by piece into
a broken sea
(August 31, 2013)

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