Wandering through Winters

The house across the street here
in Victoria one early morning
before the moon had gone down.

Rain drip-dropped from low clouds avoiding my protected kitchen window dribbling through 

eaves and downspouts

Not a prairie winter with 

glistening icicles

white, crunchy snow 

blue, blue sky

winds that whip up the grainy powder 

sending it skidding across highways and into driveways

Nor winter in the great plains of Texas

dry sandy brown grass,

brown leafless trees

blue skies and a few evergreens 

the only relief of color

wind whipping and loosening top soil

sandblasting anything daring to stand in it’s way

Snow a short lived treat - for some

Winter on this west coast island

grass green in yards and boulevards

growing unchecked with

any other growing plant - hardy flower or gangly weeds.

In those nights dipping below freezing

garden’s vegetables wilt into thawing mulch on the bare wet soil

sky cloudy and patchy blue on the good days

winds like giant hands claw mightily through trees and 

shake stout fences, angry that they stay standing.

Winter in all these places share 

warmer clothes - whether snow boots or rain boots

comfort food - chili, stew, hot cocoa ______ (you fill in the blank)

a desire to hibernate 

in a cosy bed

curled up on a sofa

out in community for laughter and good cheer.

(Sometimes a magic snowfall does quiet any of these lands.)

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and 

warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for 

a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”

~ Edith Sitwell