It smothered the rooftops,
lawns & sidewalks, muted the sharp
edges of the city & flurried
 
around streetlights like fluffy frozen
dragonflies from another world.
My appetite for snow was insatiable.
 
I’d lace my Red Wing boots,
zip my pea green military parka,
fake rabbit around the hood.
 
Covered with thick ice,
the frosted trees clinked
a symphony. When it was below
 
zero, we snuggled up to the fire,
get lost in Satie’s “Gymnopédie No. 1.”
We’d dream of the future ahead.
 
Husband & I would grow sweet
corn & pickle Roma tomatoes. 
Together, we’d trudge the iced-over
 
lake once a week. To avoid crashing
through, we had to keep moving, never give
the melting sheets a chance to spread
 
or collapse. O perfect glittering winterworld
how you conspired to insulate us
from coming pain. So much beauty
 
in the frozen dance! Even now
decades later, the ice world lures.
The preacher who agreed to perform 
 
our Bohemian wedding directed us
to call when we had problems.
“It happens to everyone,” he insisted.
 
As the ice melted, we never once
asked for his comforting counsel 
as the marriage melted around the edges
 
& collapsed.