Blue on blue. The river is ice. The sky is ice. The clouds came down to look and stayed. Pines on both banks, dark green, holding the line. Snow sits in patches, melting at the edges. Slow. White sheets of it float on the water like broken plates. I stood on the bank once. It was cold. I didn't leave. The trees are taller than they look. They go back and back into blue distance. A hill on the horizon, low and soft. Nothing here is in a hurry. The ice reflects the sky so well you could read it. Clouds upside down. Pines upside down. The world double-booked. I like that. Two skies, one earth. The water moves under the ice, somewhere down there, quiet as a cat. You can't see it. You can feel it. Spring is coming. It's already on its way. Cold light. Warm heart. Both at once. The ice cracks once, far off. A gunshot sound. Nothing runs. Birds. Small, quick, gone. Footprints in the snow, mine, stopping at the water. I turned back here. I remember exactly. Good place to turn back. #frozenriver #pines #bluesky #quiet
