|Ice on the Coyote|
I would like to talk today of cold
the cold that seems to go to your very soul
the sun seems to have no warmth
and the wind steals what little there is.
Long johns and sweats
shawls and lap robes
a roaring fire that gives no heat
zero, less than zero.
Another cup of hot tea
more fuel for the body to run on
more logs for the fire
a hoodie under the shawl.
I would like to talk of cold today
but my teeth seem clinched against it
my fingers numb deep in my pockets
the thermostat says the house is warm.
But my very marrow is chilled
listening to the wind howl outside
the crackle of the fire
the whistle of the kettle.
All are of no use.
It is so cold.
The weather station says this is the coldest it has been in 40 years for this time of year. Even the dogs don't want to go out and walk. The Stellar Jay has fluffed itself up to a big blue ball waiting for its turn at the feeder. How cold is it? the old joke goes but I am to cold to remember the answer.