Chipping Away

By TOM   

Pieces kept chipping off
The sides of the iceberg,
The sun-warped top,
And the depths I hadn't even known
Were there
The iceberg had never
Been a definite shape:
Not a pyramid
Or some rough-cut diamond
But always its ridges and caves
Had housed a familiar feel
Until they began melting
Off into the sea
It became hard to tell
What was real.
Even now, it's not strenuous to imagine
The echo of the the crashing
Waves on it's flanks
It's not difficult to bring back
The heart-stopping surge
Nearly overwhelming it's banks
They say in a season like this,
The iceberg will grow,
And will take a new shape
They say that it should,
But as sheets fell I away,
I shivered and flickered and gaped
'Till the sea became calm
And I thought it was done
I began to sort out what was left
Then the ice fell again
Is it going on still?
A blessing that feels like a theft.

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This Poems Story

This poem began to emerge when I was looking back at some events that had happened to my family about a year ago. I was so unprepared for and frightened by those events. They shook me up, but also broadened my understanding of the world. I began to think of them, and how they changed me, in the context of growing up in general. This poem is an illustration of that. The shifting rhyme pattern and rhythm mirror the shifts in my own clarity of mind.