before you break

will there be a sound of

ice crack

a forewarning, frail fissuring

like the sonorous peals

of the frozen rivers of spring

startling the industry

of nest builders

to open mouths

of tumbling twigs


and when I bleed

shall it be the slow seep


from leaf detritus

autumn pavement stains

individual patterns indiscernible

washed to gutters

of memory


every season shall have

its sensations

the crack, rot and seep

we mortals parallel