a perfect taper
plucked from a snowy roof
crunch, crunch
mouth melting, unforming.
A few weeks ago I was cross country skiing with a friend. At the point where we decided to turn around was a little out-building with icicles hanging from the eves. It had been ages since I had eaten an icicle. I had forgotten the pleasure of holding that "crystal carrot" and sucking and chomping on it. It was a surprise, especially since I am not a fan of the icecube.
As for my poems, they are usually short little things. The reasons are these: 1) I like succinctness (I wanted to use the word succinctity, but I find it isn't a "real" word), 2) I think long poems become tedious and I certainly stop reading after the first several stanzas, 3) That is the way they come out of me.
