I asked myself why,
the ice freezes in circles,
and You gave me this image.
The picture of a footprint.
The footprint of his heart.
Long before I knew him,
others had been driving on the road.
Even though it started out smooth,
without maintenance all the soft parts melted away.
Those kids that caromed around on their bikes, teeth-jarring jolts on purpose,
didn't care what the splashing was doing;
making the ruts deep enough to fall into.
That was before the cars of life plowed through.
As the freezing happened, at first around the edge-
a band of ice, small and easily missed.
A ring of bitterness that I hadn't noticed,
until I couldn't help but stub my toe.
You had it covered well with pine needles and moss
so that my foot didn't slip, until I fell in,
cutting myself on the jaggedness.
Winters can be long around here.
Comentários