It’s as bright as hell
my eyes are squinting
Due-east the sun is rising
The shining snow welcomes
a break from days of overcast
Banshee and I aimlessly walk across
the frozen lake to avoid the traffic of the winding slippery busy roads
Dead critters feathers and fur
cars and trucks slip and swerve
Ice fishers on the horizon
year rounders in summer cottages
Far and few people but hardly alone
So I sit on this ice and write this poem
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