Ode to Winter
The thought of winter tumbles in a thousand glimpses into memory the past childhood in a snow-covered cabin deep in the woods awakening to snow dusted blankets and the quiet, nestled in the attic my brother nearby our breath visible in the crack of light from the open square two rooms below. Patterns across windows obscuring the views scratched secret messages magic left by Jack Frost the wild thrill of roaring the snowmobile around corners in the track, finally allowed to wrestle this great powerful machine. The icy wind numbing my cheeks as I cackle in joy lost in the wild freedom twice, around Before a moment of careless abandonment Ends abrupted Ass-over-tea-kettle-upside down in snow– Trudging through freshly turned snow unevenly left in the tracks of those first to awaken side streets not yet plowed snow suit fabric sliding to the uneven rhythm of mood. Endless chopping and kindling cracking as the newspaper alights, and the fire dances up and sucks to consume it all pulling on skates heading out with my brother in tow awkward in our steps from the yard to the pond too lazy to carry them knowing we would lose our boots anyway seeking speed on the ice around and around the inevitable sprawl, hands out tricked by a bubble below the surface The theme of childhood relentless, seeking the surge of maniacal joy released At the edge of danger.