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Photograph by Monique Rardin Richardson
FROZEN
by Monique Rardin Richardson
Flares bursting through the bare branches,
casts vertical shadows a mile long
on the frozen pond.
How can something with such beauty
elicit so much danger?
One incorrect step and I could perish
without another word spoken or heard,
into an iridescent slush of silence.
I don’t want my last view to be the sky,
a magnificent sight, although not the shade of blue
I'd wish to see before there's no
existence of me.
If I proceed with caution,
across the slippery basin,
there may be a different outcome.
But I'd be tiptoeing
through the experience.
So many moments,
I wished I hadn't been chilled
by the fear of you fading away.
Numb by desire rising
from my missing piece.
Maybe, if I were me…
Your heart would have melted
into the warmth of my eyes
and seen yourself as I did.
Fingers forever entwined
with mine,
not released to a freedom
undesired.
Now I question…
everything.
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