Ray Sharp — Ice Storm
Inspiration
Jennifer Fendya
Response
I’ve been dreaming of flying again,
of pushing clouds over a frozen lake,
down to where trees along the shoreline
stick out their bony ribs, into the cold air
and stand tall to be counted
among the chosen.
As I pass by, my fingers reach out
to graze their toppling crowns and
smooth their worried, furrowed brows.
What can I grant these hold-outs
from another era, a lost kingdom,
huddled on the banks, stripped bare
of their majesty? Crystalline coats
to see them through to green.
I’ve been dreaming of flying again.
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