Oiled my hair and then

bobby-pinned it sleek
to go out in the street
carrot, onion and cauliflower peelings in trash
oven low, grain on, red scarf, bed made.
Outside, flap, anonymous people sailing by
in droves, but more relaxed
than me, first adjusting,
contracting in the winter embrace.
That is what skiing is about…
releasing, expanding, floating, flying.

 

What would winter be, in a warm place?
The northern people having first light
then dark for months at a time.
Not our daily rhythm, continual dissolve
between the sun and moon.
Oh winter cannot be ignored.