Frost
A rime-dipped leaf-- if pressed it would shatter;
that is how I feel today.
I can relate to that leaf, frozen by something
it can�t hope to understand.
Delicate in any case, the frosty atmosphere
makes it more so today.
My suitemates are fighting.
Not with blows
(for if that were so, I would not be here)
but with words�
worse weapons than fists, I think.
Their chalky voices shriek against my blackboard ears
drawing goose bumps on my skin.
So here I sit
(in my room-for I do not like such scenes)
Like the leaf I will glisten and gleam
To conceal the frailty that lies beneath.
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