POETRY

Ice
I would have preferred snow
Obliterating mud and gravel with intimate forgetful beauty
Like love covering a multitude of sins.
Instead ice pellets bombard
The frozen accusing dirt
Bitter on the weedy path of wanderings left behind.
Plummeting punishing filaments
Bouncing redundantly
Exploding into the frigid air in reckless repetitive indecision,
Then settling, separate
Tiny chaotic inchoate isolations
Suspended briefly before bleeding uneasily
Into a whorled clouded glaze
Imperfectly covering the bruised gaudiness
Of rotting leaves and lingering regrets.
Terri Martin Wilkins: I am a follower of Jesus Christ, often failing but always relying on grace. I write to express lament and trust. I often struggle but continue to work on trusting God in all things.
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Photo: “Hail stone,” from Pxfuel.com (modified by Veronica McDonald). Public Domain.