October 29, 2014 § Leave a comment

it took
looking back at his
tracks to realize the
full measure of

how first they lead
straight from a horizon
stark and distant,
then turned aimless

the circles and
crosshatched frenzy
of unaccustomed solitude

trails left from
hopeless clawing
at the wind
to gather
discarded vows

each empty grab
reminiscent of
of a deathslide
in a struggle to crest
the crevasse rim

holding out that
somewhere beyond the ice
a poultice of forgiveness
was being prepared

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead


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