January 2, 2014
Crackling ice falls through the brown dry leaves that cling to the old tree in the front yard. The ice rustles, jumps, and pops before being spit onto the ground where it bounces once and then melts away. So many fully formed things dissolve like drops of dye in water, spreading great tentacles out to the edges of a cup. But not the ice. It rolls, rumbles, and crackles and then disappears without trying to reach.