Notes From the Polar Vortex
When a Great Lake shows
imperfect orbs of dirty ice,
And a small one gives
hydraulics a new expression,
Those afflicted together
huddle for warmth, not love.
The amorous face will appear here,
And this is one of love's flaws,
Or love's suffering of idolatry.
Water and everything (with the exception
of my meager suffering)
do not seek the appearance of love.