Sail on silver girl, sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
Paul Simon
Snow drifts.
In this winter cold
sound rings
like crystal. The river
runs swift and dark
below a pearled
sky. On whisper-thin
ice you skate, a blade
etching one fine curl.
Sail on silver girl—
arms outstretched
as though air alone
could hold you
when the surface
fractures into lace.
Imagine you can fly.
The river's greasy face
slides beneath your feet,
breathes its sigh.
Sail on by
though water urges
drown, drown
and ice cracks
its own design
of breaking down
the swirling lines
you draw
like frost on glass,
a feathered rime.
Your time has come to shine.
You will never
be the same.
Dark will always
call its name.
Skim lighter than
shadows weigh
on ice; leap to
the spin; take flight.
Let every sorrow fall away.
All your dreams are on their way
Marion Boyer
is a professor emeritus of Communication courses at Kalamazoo Valley Community College and author of two poetry collections: The Clock of the Long Now (2009) by Mayapple Press and Green (2003) from Finishing Line Press. Her work has received various poetry awards and has appeared in Atlanta Review, Hayden's Ferry Review, Rhino, Spoon River Poetry Review, Folio, Permafrost, and The Midwest Quarterly. Boyer lives in southwest Michigan's orchard and vineyard region and spends her summer looking at Lake Michigan as much as possible.