Man Warning Two Boys
Mid-thaw, and the ice off Trinity Bay
shrugs off winter in widening rivulets.
The fissured spring beckons the unwary,
the bold, the foolish, to hopscotch across
the unfettered rafts of ice. Boys. As I
was long ago, following my brother
in a show-off game of tag, a touch and
run across the bay. And then it happened,
the edge dissolving underneath his feet,
three floes ahead of me. I yelled and ran,
skimming the snow towards his flailing arms.
The last I knew was him warning me back,
before he disappeared into the calm.
Mid-thaw, in the ice off Trinity Bay.