Cold Snap - Jan 13 2024

 

Cold Snap

Jan 13 2024

A cold snap.

When numb fingers cramp,

spit freezes

before it lands,

eyelids freeze shut.

When even steel

will brittle and break.

Snap. Short, sharp, fast.

Except when it lasts.

When the lake ice

groans and cracks,

as if protesting

how brutal it is.

When the air's so dry

the clear sky

is the purest blue imaginable.

When it's too cold to snow,

and little moves

except for a few brave souls

swaddled in layer on layer.

Thermal mitts

puffy coats

thick wool hats.

A scarf, white with frost

covers the face,

saturated

with warm wet breath

until it, too, freezes over.

So all you can see

are two narrowed eyes

squinting brightly out.

Waiting for the snap to end.

For the world to soften.

For easy living

once again.

For virgin snow

to cover the soiled layers

with a fresh start;

a warm interregnum

we hope will last as long.