How she taps to feel the dull thump
of solid ice crowning cloudy water,

flinches at the siren call
of hawk hunting hare,

strains to hear a twig snap,
subtle susurrus of shifting wind,

fails to notice a curlicue of cracks,
the sun slivering them deeper and deeper;

how she’s left with no choice
but to inch forward,

everything in her longing
to reach the other side.