Ice Screams

RUBY TUESDAY

ICE SCREAMS

Edvard Munch might crack a grin

Or he might be dismayed

If he saw these ice-cube shapes

That some inventor made.

Like skulls they rattle in a drink,

Preferably one that's red.

How would you feel about swallowing one,

A little Screaming Head?

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                                           Brenda Bryant

MORNING MOON

The rising sun floods the sky with pink,

Yet still the night's full moon,

Sails on, majestic, up above,

To be extinguished, soon.

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