Ice bleeds to water in lukewarm air
As timeless crystal lattices
collapse
Into perpetually formless jumbles
You take a pick to the lakebed
Slash shaves of ice from their atomic bondage
Grit chattering teeth against slicing cold
To brush frosted life beneath its shell
Exhale vaporous dawnlit dragon-breath
There is no sweat on your icicle skin
Help our furnace-star do its nuclear work
In time for rite of spring
The soul floats a sub-arctic berg
Incongruously bobbing ever onwards
While hypothermia licks at the fingertips
Between your edges and the warming waves