ice house

tender arctic willow
bleeding pomegranate shimmer
was there and then it wasn't
where do I begin?
at the end, at the end.

leaving the lake
Erebus, the lyre and its lover
no time for mourning songs
there is a year to bury and the ground is dark and frozen.
the branches are reaching
ptarmigans turn back ivory linens
I pray to remember.
are you forever?

eating crowberries in your careful shelter
this makeshift heaven, with lascivious lute
sandalwood and clove under blankets melting
a masterful hand moving up and down the neck
music shape shifts beloved, voices melding
and I feel those hands playing me
my legs are tired and dreaming.

your strong hand at my jaw
back in the elements
they gather as spectators
watching us watching them
avoiding the wet reflections
of our future underwater

I forgot to read to you
time was a skipping child
whose Father claimed the ice was solid.
I saw us through their eyes
and heard our children laughing together.

I always want to be singing with you
and with what you've given me
I could start a revolution too.
Go back to a beginning and try something new.