An Icy Chill

An iceberg touches my spine;

a feeling hard to define

when i read great poetry.

Why does this happen to me?

I would like to understand

what makes some poetry grand.

Often a poem comes to me

and i feel some ecstasy.

That poem may not be good.

I only wish that it would.

Wishing doesn’t make it so

I sometimes like it though.

It just doesn’t have the thrill

that the great poems will.

Walt Abbott 4-24-2012