Silver maple icicles are forming a new,
The month of March has come too,
Fashioned on branches hanging low,
Over Long Island Channel they will grow,
Moisture collecting, flowing, and casting,
In a day time melting and an evening freezing,
A cycle of sun, evaporation, and chill,
Seeing them originate is a marvel and a thrill.
Albert Timper
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sliver-maples-icicles/
