A Winter Moment

A Winter Moment

Once
in winter
I made an ice sculpture
on a train trestle
over a little river
that coursed through
odd, unwanted marsh and wood.

Having finished
I descended to the river bank
because a train
came trembling by.

The sculpture shook
and shivered
as the train thundered
inches away
but the ice held firm
and the form remained
sparkling with sunlight
after the train had passed.

I am still not sure
what the sculpture was
It was skeletal
fragile
kind of unsettling
five angles
a solidification of spirit
I don't know
but it was
art.

Two youths came by
male
they see the sculpture
but do not see me.

"What the fuck?"
"What is it?"
"Let's kick it over."
"Looks kinda haunted."
"Yeah."
"We can't get any more haunted."
"Yeah."

Kick.
Topple.
Splash.

Ah
half gone.

"Hey, it's ice."
"Don't fall in."

Kick.
Topple.
Splash.

So it goes.

"Hey, maybe you shoulda left it."
"Yeah, it looked pretty cool."
"Yeah."

"Oh!"
They see me.

Silence.

I am comfortable.
Calm.
Appreciative.
Silent.

"Oh well."
"Too late now."

They turn
walk away
breaking ground ice
and kicking trackbed gravel
noisily
for a few yards
look back once
then continue away
silent.

I finally speak:

Thank you.