So cold, so long a winter

By X. Z. Shao

So cold, so long a winter,

I feel like cursing the force
that I have no control.
It seems my feet
were sucked in icy water,
a mangrove’s roots standing astride
on the marshland
to keep their trunk dry.
Chilly air encompasses me,
numbing my nerves
as an early Alzheimer
set in to ravage my brain.
There is no romance
or even an impulse to life
in this barren permafrost,
only the happy ices
nourished by the moisture beneath
swell up and push each other
producing a cracking sound.
O, whispers of the spring,
when will you come and turn into thunders
to break the cold silence,
thick as a layer of iron
cast with all ores from Australia?

                  Afternoon, Feb. 18, 2011