Frozen River
Before dawn
I think I hear someone on
the frozen river
and stop to listen
but it’s only the straining
ice that’s giving way
and shattering like
giant panes of glass as the
river moves it on
so I keep moving,
relieved, as if I might have –
could have – saved some soul
who’d gotten stuck there
without a branch or a hand
or hope to cling to
but that behind me
I’m down the trail again to
Washington, D.C.
on toward Washington
to beat the crowds and witness
the Inauguration
heading south toward where
a glow on the horizon
shows through bare branches
and this time in the
first rays of dawn I hear a
low soulful humming
and sense up ahead
the shadowed forms of people
walking toward the light
And see their breath
Rising up like jeweled veils
in the frosty air
walking and humming
with tools on their shoulders and
baskets at their sides
humming the world of
their frozen river, strained and
shattered, moving on
toward the break of day
toward the sun, Washington, and
Inauguration
by Creeker
