Marc García Carda ICE STORM’S MAGIC (“S”)
Yesterday night, before opening the door,
Before passing into my cozy, heated house to sleep,
I looked at the landscape in front of me…
The trees were loosing their leaves,
The air was frosty, silent, soundless,
So full of mystery; I couldn’t suspect what was going to happen.
Today I heard some voices and sounds downstairs.
I loked out the window and got surprised;
The street, the trees, the flowers I had seen yestarday
Were now covered with tons of ice.
The street seemed as it was made out of glass,
As if you couldn’t step on it because it would break,
Burst into one thousand million tiny pieces;
It would be a big mistake.
Scientists think they now how this happens,
How the streets turn into ice
And the flowers into sculptures of glass,
but the only explanation for this is…