On Ice by Aurora Bishop

I was waiting for something
to happen – anything, a sign.
The man came up behind me
he couldn’t have known I was
already scared of his footsteps
as I am of all faceless noise.
But this man, he keeps walking
steps up to the frozen lake
throws a walnut against the ice – 
where did the man in business 
casual get a walnut?
That walnut, it bounced
and he was furious
dark eyebrows clenched behind darker frames.
He picked up a stick
and threw it harder.
Crack.
It snapped in two, and the ice
remained unscathed.
He left abruptly, more silently
than he came.
And now I’ll never know 
what he was really trying to break. 

About the Poet:

Aurora Bishop lives and writes in Cincinnati, OH.