You didn't even see it at first,
the crazy part of me I had to bury.
The sheer beauty of river icicles is what you saw.
I tried to hide the troubles I had carried with me
but that was impossible, they were all over me,
and besides, the crazy did not seem to scare you.
The fear was my own, and it had been forever.
But your kind face drained it from me easily, and I became brave again.
I was nearly insane in my boldness, when you asked me to write you a poem.
Could I do it anymore?
Thoughts of pens and paper had me choking.
But I wanted to show you those river icicles one last time, show you
that I could write you something as pretty and pure and cold as that ice
throwing colors in the sunlight and on the water,
so that maybe you would think of me and the sparkling river
and forget the crazy I had come to bury deep in the ground nearby with a prayer
and a wish for forgetting.