Back home, it’s called “ice out,”
that exact moment, exact and
recorded,
when the ice has melted, melted and
gone
from the lake, "out," the last sheet of
ice
giving way to rising temperatures,
shrinking to give up form and
substance
to water, becoming lake itself,
transformed,
a small crystal succumbing,
contributing itself,
signaling, officially, the end of
winter.
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