Ice - Relived

The ice-encapsuled stream trickled
between rocks and branches 
and slid beneath the bridge.

I could hear dripping
dropping through the altitudes, 
carressing the stones.

The ice and cold picked up
the water's freezing high notes,
muffling all others.

I listened for ice squeaks -
magical birdsong ice-sounds,
the kind that were on the river
when you left two winters ago.

But drips through the drops
were all this stream could promise -
such a little stream after all.

Not a roaring river quieted
to encantational birdsong 
by the magical, crystal hand of winter.

Kathleen Hover
01/20/03