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


shattering to sidewalk

scattering like stars.

Soon puddles will drown entire galaxies.

The cruelty of Spring.


2 thoughts on “The Tragedy of Beauty

    1. cottonbombs Post author

      I’m still looking, too. Life’s like one big Easter Egg hunt and though I’ve never seen the magical rabbit that leaves the eggs, I believe in him.


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