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On Ice By Robert Bidon There’s crackling from the stove aglow, the other sounds come from below, beneath my feet from deep and wide What will this lake to me bestow? When smoothly now the float it slides into the deep, I stop its glide. Aha! This is a worthy foe. We take each other on a ride. Hand over fist, I pull and tow this monster from his home below I have him near his ice ceiling but then he turns, intent to go. Now he’s mad and really wheeling! As in prayer, I now am kneeling. Then a snap and I go reeling. Alas — he’s free and not revealing. Page 29

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