Phase

 Phase

When quickly quiet the frost awakens each curvature 

ablaze with tiny twinkling comets and stars

Heaven’s fleeting melt sparks these somber souls 

To laugh and seed the nebulae of Spring 

While traces of solitary igloos persist in shadow

Neither glistening bud or cool crevasse alone 

But together coalesce these ebbing dances

Whose steps we slowly learn resemble love 

—

(Written after dinner with A. Yale and R. Teal on 3/7/24)