By Karen Arnold
The gay merriment of frozen tears
Coaxes heated humor from giggling lips.
Blues bursting into snide remarks
As idiocy is as forgotten as greenhouse gases in an ecologist’s slumber.
Dance the celebratory dance on man created ice.
Beckon or wave above frozen waters to a passing ice boat.
Dreams of pleasure to ensue during leisure.
A whale is performing tricks, why wail of sorrow
Like the many strung out on broken dreams or dreamless?
Someone got hurt
I shouldn’t laugh,
Yet that someone wasn’t me.
We need a game to watch that doesn’t harm the players.
Brad Pitt isn’t an author because he doesn’t know it all.
My tears cannot cry out as a storm or weeping shower.
They stop dead in their tracks, colder than snow,
Whiter than a crystalline stream,
Sorrows frozen amongst the melting.
(Karen Arnold is a San Rafael resident who grew up in Marin. She says she’s “very interested in calling attention to climate change.” She won a national award for poetry in high school. If you would like to have a poem considered for publication, please contact Publisher Sherman R. Frederick via email at email@example.com.)