Cold poetry

Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
-Robert Frost



The Cold River

by Michael Gullickson
Source: Bridges (2002) p.18

Whatever two people do
as moving closer they
plunge into icy waters
trying to learn hypothermia
and the two distinct stages
of death which are 1) almost and
2) quite which are oddly enough
the two stages of life
and being
that two people
have enough blood to transfuse each other
while the winter river pushes them on
almost drowning
but not quite
and the difference is
buddy - breathing
sharing enough air for one
making it suffice for two
which is the miracle of loaves and fishes
when a hillside full of people can be fed
from lunch- for -one
and Christ anyway told me
it was ok to love anyone
even strangers, except stronger
as he ran my mind on fast-forward
showing me what was love and what was not
as the cold river moved on
as the sky surged and the wind bellowed
a limb to hang on to and each other
and at last nothing more
than one voice from two
loudly against the storm.


Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


I'm still struggling with text in my piece. And all this winter is heavy business, and lonesome frightened nights are too relevent and I'm loving every minute, but where is the line I'm looking for?