Saturday, January 11, 2014

The Ice Storm - A Poem by Samuel Mann

The Arts - Poetry ---

The Ice Storm
By Samuel Mann

And when the ice storm was over
We all came out
And counted the broken trees
With their rigid branches of crystal,
The black and white lines slanted
Across the streets,
Vehicles and roof tops dripping with stalactites,
And in the cold wind
Faces that burn without power.

If friendship is not in the telling
Or even a greeting
What does it say
About those whom you’ve known all along?
Was there a sign in the cuts,
The darkness of snow and ice
Creeping across the land?
Some will sigh and reassure you
It’s nothing,
Prove to you that you
Were not even among the nameless faces.

But the die has been cast
And your number didn’t show up.
Must you always be the first
To wave and say hi to those who pretend?

Dreaming up a poem
That comes to me in spasms
And pieces of shattered thoughts,
It’s that circumcision again in my sleep,
Fearing the dreaded touch of steel
Held by someone whom I knew before
Encircling what’s left of my frightened bit
Hidden below the layers of white;
I screamed until I heard the repeated song of another ghost
Coughing in the background
And the coming of an aching ear
I do not understand.

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