A single step
can be safer than the next
or the last.

The snow covers
a delicate layer of ice.
From a far,
no one would know
what lies beneath.
Just a quiet, white field,
of freshly fallen snow.

I like the way
the ice crackles
right under my boots
just before it breaks.

At that time,
the thrill is harmless.
Merely those small,
spider web cracks.
Intruding in it's
perfect crystal floor.

But as soon as that ice
folds from under me,
I am surrounded by
a world of water
and its heavy.
Dragging me down,
to cold to handle.

Why do I chose
to walk on the ice?