The snow melted yesterday.
Watching run-off trickle to the creek,
I felt my crystallized heart slip between
the thawing sinews of my chest.
I cradled its sodden weight in cold-stiffened hands
and waded through mud into the yard.
Channeling some Nordic shield maiden,
I hacked and drove two splints of wood
into the grit of half-frozen earth.
Now there are two masts to tie a line between.
I will not carve a dragon head to frighten foes to come.
I will not line the bulwarks with bravely painted shields.
I will quietly drape the bleached stuff of my heart
across this cord to dry.
I will sit in the watery sun and
what summer feels like.