Walking in an icy puddle near an abrasives factory

 walking on ice as thin as skin

  a spider's web of white cracks radiate towards shore

   before black water swallows them along with wellies

 icy water up to our shins

   the smaller webs of my sons merge with mine

     then form an overwhelming area of darkness

 we pick up jagged sheets and kick them

   to smithereens that entangle the remaining light

     and draw it into the depths of the day's infernal soul

 a worker from the abrasives factory peeks

   over the fence at us; ready to scream at the scoundrels

     breaking bottles and stealing the silence of his sunset

© 2004 Joseph Dias