as i gaze upon the the big sea water, it ripples, ever so quietly, lapping against the snow bound shore. ice does reside in the boundaries of lower harbor, transparent, reflecting moonlight, resembling spillt lightening. if one danced very slow, moving as no time mattered, the ice would not break, but with one sigh or sudden gesture one would quickly, inevidably, be dancing with the fish. east of mqt, i know not of ice and things, for there i have not journeyed in many moons. on saturday while visiting a friend up m-28 way, i'll be sure to report.