by Will Finlayson
The rain would freeze in the winter,
sealing the land in a shimmering glaze that
turned Texas fragile overnight.
The earth would shatter where I stepped and
I could snap flowers in half between my fingers.
I thought about the fire ants and beetles
sleeping beneath the gleam and the
vultures waiting patiently in the breeze.
I wondered where the deer would sleep
when the earth had frozen, how the
hares would burrow homes in the hardened ground.
Then I plucked a sliver of ice and
put it between my lips like a cigarette.
burning down to a dripping blue as
it caught the first light of morning.
Will Finlayson is senior at BYU studying English, communications, editing, and creative writing. He is a level 7 Kensai in D&D.
