Thursday, February 2, 2012

februum (Water Poem V)

I can see you now

you’ve just had that shot of vodka and
sat in sweating sauna at 97 degrees
inhaling pine scent poured over red hot rocks
even breathing hurts

in mid-air leaping off the dock
about to hit cold black lake water
so refreshing and soul cleansing

but before the splash
I imagine this fleeting thought ripples
why this ritual right now?
is it pure fun or something deeper?
pure depth?

and you climb out to make it
a third time – all things three
it seems

these thoughts on a hoar frost
day - the first of February
black branches whitened
into crystal miracle

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