<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=410463" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Icehouse In Summer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A door sunk in a hillside, with a bolt <br>thick as the boy’s arm, and behind that door <br>the walls of ice, melting a blue, faint light, <br>an air of cedar branches, sawdust, fern: <br>decaying seasons keeping from decay. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>A summer guest, the boy had never seen <br>(a servant told him of it) how the lake <br>froze three foot thick, how farmers came with teams, <br>with axe and saw, to cut great blocks of ice, <br>translucid, marbled, glittering in the sun, <br>load them on sleds and drag them up the hill <br>to be manhandled down the narrow path <br>and set in courses for the summer’s keeping, <br>the kitchen uses and luxuriousness <br>of the great houses. And he heard how once <br>a team and driver drowned in the break of spring: <br>the man’s cry melting from the ice that summer <br>frightened the sherbet-eaters off the terrace. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Dust of the cedar, lost and evergreen <br>among the slowly blunting water walls <br>where the blade edge melted and the steel saw’s bite <br>was rounded out, and the horse and rider drowned <br>in the red sea’s blood, I was the silly child <br>who dreamed that riderless cry, and saw the guests <br>run from a ghostly wall, so long before <br>the winter house fell with the summer house, <br>and the houses, Egypt, the great houses, had an end.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Howard+Nemerov">Howard Nemerov</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=410463" data-title="The Icehouse In Summer de Howard Nemerov" data-description="A door sunk in a hillside, with a bolt thick as the boy’s arm, and behind that door the walls of ice, melting a blue, faint light, an air of cedar branches, sawdust, fern: decaying seasons keeping from decay. A summer guest, the boy had n..."></div> </div> </div>

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