thin ice

tight is the moment when the rivers run cold
drifting passed the meadows of cheese and cream
when the frosting sits still and the drifters drink wine
sopping the moon with the onion rings left behind
no one was watching, nobody cared
just the eagle with one wing missing
and the caribou left behind
under the circuit board where the drift bits blow
there is no reason no, but a reason why
but then there was no one
but the circus rats in the snow
gone gone gone
into the pudding
where the onion rings pop
there was no forgiving
just the look in the face that said everything
and nothing...
pulling up the heels, turning away
until there was no chance
but the ghenkoes on her jacket
and in the passing as
the heels went up
gaggling their gathering
as the fool gathers his pudding
one minute pudding the feeder
leaving it empty
while the rally went on
dust in
glory out
time happens
even for the young
there is no immortality
except for what you pass on to others
bring your bandaids
never know who will be hurt
or blest.

denis streeter 3/3/11