Ice Leaf

From the thick rock on which it rests

its tip projects

like the topmost lobe

of an oak leaf. Thin

and wet, its edges seem

to hover above the stream

from which it came.

The white protuberance

of ice around its base

sends up a heavy stem

which fans in veins, that touch

each frosted point

with streaks of gray. Between

these streaks the skin

of the ice is smooth

and clear. Its sheer transparency

permits the eye

to follow the swirling stream,

whose ripples, regular

and white as ribs, advance

like a body floating forward,

ready to throw its weight

on dark, encrusted rock.

The ice leaf's sturdy spine

reflects the morning sunlight,

even as what was once

its tip begins to thaw,

and what was once its stem

is lost in the rushing water.