The While of Thaw

Design hides

on day-dull windshields

until the cold dark

freezes feathered beauty

into being.

Night celebrates winter—

night—a bird that’s spread

its plumage wide

for ice to trace.

When day breaks, I climb

inside the car and sit,

looking through a crystal matrix

that repatterns sky and trees.

I wait for night’s world to thaw

that I might see where I’m headed.

I wait

with this odd bird of ice

both of us frozen in flight

waiting for the sun

to melt us

into a moveable stillness.