Storm Grove Press

By:
Spencer Knierim



Abyss

I cross over pools of dark thin ice
walking hurriedly with tiny rushed steps.
The sound of shattered glass fills my wake
as the thin layer will only hold an instant.

As one pool merges with the next,
an image repeats with each passing.
Part reflection, part hallucination,
a face reveals itself under the surface.

I quicken my gait
and break my gaze from the passing pools
In hopes of finding some escape
on the beaded onyx horizon.

The ice shatters immediately
engulfing me wholly.
The strangely familiar face disappears
as I sink deeper.