IN THE HOUR BEFORE

In the hour before freezing
The pond gathers viscosity
Sinks below a fragile glaze
Lies still beneath the glistening lace
And waits.

In the hour before dying
The woman gathers memory
Sinks below their tender gaze
Lies still beneath her crumbling face
And waits.

§ § §

Jim Boring lives on the Illinois-Wisconsin border from which vantage point he is able to peer into the woods dark and deep or the city equally dark and deep. He has published in the small press and in the Chicago Tribune Magazine. You can reach him at JBCCNOW@aol.com.

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