Refraction

Tinsel falls to ice on roads. Trans-

parent sheet of glassy rest

in classical music. In peace I witness

sheets of glasnost, imagine

a flowered pasture as my only path. 

An aftermath, the yield of glib witness 

destined to root out anything mismatched 

with narrow sleet I learn won't last. 

Fast asleep the damage of refracting 

past music, no empty room to fill 

with FM music from the walnut three-D

frame, the same one that disclosed when

schools were closed, and we could finally

impose ourselves on flowering ways to learn.