9 December 2012
Shards of icy, crystalline teeth, Biting down, in a reflective wreath.
Kaleidoscopic strands of blood, Stained colourless in the icy flood.
Sharp points-piercing like thorns, As new columns of ice are born.
Stabbing the sunlight, as soon as it is cast, Causing it to trickle upon the path.
Starting to drip-dying in the light, They'll all be gone, long before night.
Melting into one great big muddle, Rest in peace-this icicle puddle.
Icicle... • Opuss № I