8 on Thin Ice




Long after the crystal snowfall, 8 skates on a pond.

It is not a frozen pond, as now the summer is near


& the blades of her feet cut into water. The mind is murky,

but the skates take 8 out of the soup, for the blades


are wings, the wings of Mercury. So many secrets 8

has hid from the dim pond out of which the amphibians


creep. When she looks back at the rink, what strikes her

is the beauty & cunning of her curving. The water


is plausible though far from clean or translucent. To

8, whether feigned or authentic, the pond seems verdant.