When winter blends in to the fall that precedes
And darkness consumes us and sunlight recedes
Tall spears of ice, from the roofs edge they dangle
Nearly to ground—a precarious angle.
Through winters of wonder, they magically hold
Till summer comes closer and Christmas grows old
Near April the ice swords, wet, shiny round
Fall from their roots to crash on the ground.
Sporadic, unpredictable, falling like rain
They cave to the pressure, give in to the strain
Heavy-thawed-snow falls down the tin roof
Then hangs from the ledge—gravity proof.
The sheer wall of skewers—ic e sculpture art
Stalactites of winter, always are part
Of a change in the season, with spring round the bend
When snow will all vanish and winter will end.