tendering soft skins of young dog walkers
massaging wrinkles of aging lovers
walking across the bridge
lifting myself on the top of my toes with short nails
painted blue inside wool socks
watching water breaking ice
invisibly
the striking force of softness
shattering pieces by pieces that strong icy glass
wandering what's hiding under melting ice
maybe dead green crocodile defrosting
maybe jelly balls falling out from tiny grey toad's belly
broken open into tadpoles into the world of tiny grey toads
maybe tiny fishes bleeding their silver tails inside big ones' estimators
or swept into fisherman's net at the end of their journey
where Otonabee river run into some blue sea
reincarnated into sushi
maybe a world's sleeping
maybe a world's cracking under the ice so crystalline
I am
in my time on my toes
one foot gave in to the law of gravity
one foot rebelled to flow with serenity
busy watching the beauty
busy wandering the unknown
too busy to hear the cracking, the withering, the blooming, the tide raising, the river flowing inside
me.
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