Geese circle over water like lost years.
Melting snow drips cautious as glossed manna
onto Crystal Creek, now rains like clear tears
as limbs shed frost. I once tried to plan a
life with a lady—slendering shadow
always threatening to storm. It never
worked out. I once, psyche shocked, had to bow
to an aurora’s glowing fire—clever
giant emerald salamander’s ghost
shimmering over a vast Greenland lake,
face a jagged kaleidoscope, its coast
a raveled braid of snow and mud. Oh, take
it from me: I once watched your eyes watch mine,
their aurora glow tracing the divine.
Roger Armbrust
August 29, 2011
