You'll Get Used to It - Feb 1 2022

 

You'll Get Used to It

Feb 1 2022

On even a mild winter day

the thin-blooded visitor

finds it unlivable here.

Can't believe we do.

He shivers visibly

as he inches over the ice,

nose dripping

chapped lips

cracking in the dry cold air.

Can't get warm

no matter what.

Meanwhile

we, the acclimatized, smugly carry on;

teenage boys in shorts

boccie ball in snow

grilling on the porch.

Dining al fresco, we say

invigorated by cold.

Don't worry, you'll get used to it, we insist

it's warm once you're in,

as if urging someone to swim

in a frigid northern lake

in a high summer heat wave,

cavorting

like mischievous dolphins

and splashing him wet.

But he stands fast,

ankle deep, on the oozy bottom

arms clasped to his chest,

eyeing the black forbidding surface

just imagining what's there.

While down south

in the stifling heat

of the muggy sun-drenched tropics

we find it unbearable;

suffering

in our thick skin and thicker blood,

the heat stifling

sun atomic.

How do they do it?, we say, splayed out in the shade,

pale bodies

bathed in sweat,

heads

woozy and feverish.

What a perfect day, they reassure us,

you'll get used to it

just wait.