what is impossible to know
in that road-ribbon's ahead
is its impropriety
story lines snaking ahead
shorter, more narrow than you think
more plaid than swept
Menaces disguised as lovers
lurk in the everyday
shadows move easily on sunlight
dawn-denoted cram sessions
deal dead-end awards
leading to nothing of record
debouches into ice sculptures,
debutante years
decanted into ocean
at seventeen
theme is self-decorating
[] carries a hackneyed payload
time will accelerate
Canadian geese will soar loudly
loaded down with effortlessness
ice-blue eyes will stun. ensnare
inspire aphorisms of touch
or simply be cataloged
the planet we gave you
seventeen years past
is headstrong, inattentive
filled with other snow people
and their medicine man mysteries
spun from beneath the ice
cold-bracing olives yet to be eaten
held between your teeth whistle
tunes of the era time-locked in your ice
while riding the skates of childhood
all speed, corner-less, or its opposite
avoiding just those deep creases
eventualities
you yourself set in motion
will become little ice summits
for now, speed-skate the surface
of these early time trials
duty disguised as wind in your hair
for Emily
August 2011