Traction
He goes further
than you or I might
on the ice laden sidewalk
rollerblading
saw in hand.
What cold desperation
I ask
Leads him to the hardware store
across frozen tarmacadam
risking life, and limb.
I imagine bodies
lying desperate for dismemberment
or a frozen elder
huddled over hearth
faced with intractable logs.
Maybe it is just youth
the illusion of freedom
gliding in ecstacy
on the surface of being
soaring before the wax melts;
unrequited lust for danger
a moment of grace granted.
Held by faith alone
lest the blade falls
unbidden.
Stumble It! 
