I am ice
A solid block of one cubic meter frozen
Hard, slamming down against obstinately
Dry sand in the sunless water-vapor day.
Down – and
Grains jump and stick and drop,
Glass beads in blue and shiny red,
Chattering with unknowable mirth.
Friends, like me
are ice, soaking softly down and disappearing
Some not so well, but managing.
They gleam at me with glossy gesture as frosty chips fly away.
They know. I will
Shatter into widths of twenty microns
Much too small to glitter in the
Sunless burning day, or scratch the sand, or move, or melt.