Francesca Johnson - Icing on the cut

Frozen over
like a frosted glass window pane,
beautiful and calm,
unmoving,
ethereal in the dampness of the morning.
A joy to see, to inhale
the smell of frozen water.
A rarity.
Stillness.
Silence.

Two ducks crash land and
confused by its hardness
skate and slip
and fall about like those drunken sailors
then fly off in disgust.

The sun rises and glares at the ice,
casting its yellow eye over the arrogant brittleness
that dares to challenge it.
Slowly, slowly,
like truth amongst lies
it wins through.

The illusion dissolves,
melts,
and the canal is back in the here and now,
liquid,
living,
soft to the touch.

Fascinating though it was,
the ice will soon be forgotten.

Francesca Johnson

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/icing-on-the-cut/