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| They bought my book, Tenderfoot |
The young man, above, opened Tenderfoot and began to read the following poem:
SKATING THIN ICE
Stepping from the landlocked trees
to ice,
On thin, steel blades, the skater
leaves
His two sure feet and sails;
He skims the grey-smooth ice on out
To places where the firmness
softens and water's deep.
There, black holes gape and bubbles
rise
Through thick, black water like
thoughts of gods.
That far out on flying edges,
The skater's body quails with
soaring fear,
And shore fires cast a fitful light
On small musings that freeze like
cubes of ice;
That far out
The rugged shore and threadbare
trees
Seem dreams that edge a frozen universe
Where bubble thoughts drift up
through thick
Black air on spumes of mist to
burst away,
And water's deep.
I told him I thought the poem was about taking intellectual risks, about thinking like an atheist...or something like one.
