Breaking the Ice

James Zoller Gathering strength in its downward rush the stream flexes beneath ice that has held since December breaks it free of its anchors lifts and slides the huge plates out of its path pushes before it the walls of its winter prison as mad, brown water surges over and around its banks looking for a shorter path through fields through quiet streets clamoring to rejoin the rampage falling into cellars shouting as it runs Once in that bedlam at the point I could no longer hear myself think – as if it were called by the voice of God – I heard my name ~~~~~ Next: The Interval