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News From the Ice House

by Barry Spacks

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Summer will stream in rivulets,
asters surrounding the Ice House. Water--
how placidly, as ice,
it waits for freedom.

Love in its essence is boundless; here,
with us, it moves by ebbs and floods,
in tides. Etched in the Ice House window:
"ELIZABETH ETERNALLY, 2/17/04."

Wistfully Elizabeth
forms me a kiss through rime-dimmed glass.
Easy loving fantasies
a camera'd film through gauze,

but how to bear our beer-sad fathers?
wives who ululate and keen?
the cussed hopes and miseries
of familiars?

The thought of a once-loved friend
throbs like an amputated limb.
"Elizabeth Eternally,
2/17/04."

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