scrive

subtlepersona

Saturday, February 11, 2012

skating

The ice binds the boats
the feet strokes shave away
the first tromps in the new surface
claimed by curious white-billed birds
that sit now idly like dark ceramic vessels
in nooks of lapping water under the warm bridge

the gliding prime gather
freed by flailing arms
in the leisure of the canal
the handing out of
of gluhwein and bottles
in this public intimacy
from warmth of common past
makeshift cafes spread on frozen floors
the tender on shift smoking staring
for hours minding
the nods of bright eyes
from the white of the snow

the merry fall to catch
mittens for safety and slip
into the harmless joy

the long shadow of the Westerkerk
marks the short recess
heeded by the folk

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