I drive to the lakeshore
On the day after Christmas
The wind screams in from the North
Thin snow on the rocks
Patterned like chaotic lace
On the day after Christmas
The wind screams in from the North
Thin snow on the rocks
Patterned like chaotic lace
Ice hummocks stretch out from the shore
Smoky gray mottled glass
Some blocks farther out
Break off and reach for the dead sky
Beyond that, the cold boiling waves
Five minutes out here
And my hands are burning, going numb
Holding the camera is difficult
I snap quickly, on pure instinct
Then race back to the car
Defeated
Looking at the pictures later
I see the violence of the cold
Elements locked within its grip
Further frozen in time
A window in space
