Inevitable Beside my father's frozen pond I told Desa Marie the ice was thick like pavement, to go and touch the fountain stiff and slick. She screamed. Her boots were filling fast. My feet stayed on the shore, calm as cats asleep. I knew the ice would crack. In my mind I'd seen her tiny hands fluttering like butterflies out of my father's frozen pond.   home · resume · recent publications · schedule · technical writing · course offerings list of clients · connecting chord · programs ·  poetry pages · bardic performances · contact Christine Hemp P.O. Box 674 Port Townsend, WA 98368 tel: 360-385-9005