Expectancy! -- must surely be its own reward –
full of unrhymed yearning January word
and whispered sound that prod you gently
like a bounding litter of small Husky pups:
licking, nuzzling up and down, around, below,
above, in search of -- not exactly love, but
an acknowledgment. Lodge with them into
an igloo-day so full of winter that you can't
believe it won't soon splinter from its own
largesse: a plenty that would bless if it just had
the sentience to. Aha! -- now there's a role
for you: to take its trembling gelid cells
and swash and freeze them into clear delineated
swells and swerves -- an art nouveau ice
cataract of curves -- an outlined luminosity
to label -- some sweet name precisely chosen
from the Babel Tower's lexicon: instead of
peering in the mirror, preening: vex the silky slush
into a form and meaning. Map some portion
of the frigid sea explicably. That’s the recipe.
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