The Tragedy of Beauty

It’s the ephemeral sensitivity of the ice

that gives it its true beauty

the tragedy of each sunset silenced by night

these ice wrought sculptures bleed to death in this March evening

as chunks of castles and necks of swans come crashing

down

shattering to sidewalk

scattering like stars.

Soon puddles will drown entire galaxies.

The cruelty of Spring.

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