Note from the Floe

 

The afternoon rains have come
And I am outside with eyes
Toward the heavens,
The knot in my throat drawn tight,
Letting the drops find their way,
Down the slope of my skin,
To my mouth, to drink
That which was not here
A few moments ago,
That which was only
An idea, but became sacramental
Out of affinity. I am bound
To this spot, I am helpless
To sidestep the possibilities,
Five senses reduced
To the taste of ice
Stripped of its insolence.
I am navigating while motionless.
I am stumbling but fast.
I am dotted but dry.
The way that adieu
Means goodbye, goodbye
But also
I commend thee to God.