THE FROZEN POND

For W.H. Auden


The ice,
thick
with innocence,
began to fissure
& melt
in late
July.
Mufflers,
& gloves,
& little hats
floated
to the surface.

The old folks
clucked
their tongues;
strange
to notice
a betrayal
not
of their own
doing.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015