Sara Harari

Black Ice

She slipped on the black ice.
It tripped
her
up
and she went sliding.

She collected her senses.
wiped herself off
readjusted her hat

She turned to look at it.
smooth
no cracks at all
not one.

The perfect surface reflected the sun, shining it right into her eyes.
blinking at the light,
she turned and gazed beyond.

On the way home, she noted the labyrinth of cracks coating the once smooth surface,
shattering
its once cool demeanor.





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Copyright 2002-2006 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2006 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.