white blood cells

{ice floes on the north saskatchewan}

On a walk a few days ago, I watched the river freezing -- the sound of the floating clusters scraping & crunching their slushy edges was like loud & creaking sighs, the little ice floes in the river like white blood cells in cold bluish plasma, swift & clean & I thought of his marrow again, prayed for some sort of benediction, for all the lymphocytes to become strong bones, freeze up healthy like white birches bleached & shining in the frost & sun.