Edges: Bal Masque

Edges: Bal Masque
Betsy McKenzie

Snow at the edge of freezing,
Dripping into water in the sun.
Trees at the edges of the pond,
Raining from their branches.

Water on the pond, half-froze,
Gelid, crazy-crystalled surface
Matte white, subtle sparks sideways.
Edges of the pond dance in liquid freedom.

The sun brought a masque of opposites,
A panorama of true beauty mis-seeming.
Snow dripping from branches like a sunny rain,
Falls into water’s edges: dimples wink, as drips sink.

So many plinks at the water’s edge, the watcher swears,
There are fish nibbling or bubbles fizzing up, up, not down.
Where the drips fall into the edges of soft ice, a
Dimple, swallow, no flash of light. But all along the water:

Flash, flash, like semaphores. Some message from under
Water to the Sun. The pond seems sizzling with energy,
Glinting, sparking in some code, all along the edge, a
Halo of clashing, flashing dimples where snow drops in.

January 30, 2006