Winter is uninvited, yet it always comes.
No matter how long I postpone trying on last year’s coats, hats and gloves,
even still winter comes. If I leave the hose out until it’s frozen stiff, snaking through the yard,
still winter comes. The pots and the plants they crack and curl from the cold. Winter, comes.
Winter comes in the cold,
dark mornings heralding sad thoughts and memories.
I lost my father to the winter. I discovered, accepted and revealed a family’s ancient addiction.
I miscarried. I fell down. I fell apart. Always winter comes.
Winter means waking early with darkness bringing in the day.
Though I try to overcome, the anxious thoughts settle in.
Remember the cold. Remember, remember. I am always falling, in winter.
Good things are lost, so do not hold too tight
to what you desire most. You will lose them to winter.
Love hurts more in winter, dries up and becomes need.
Love becomes memory. I am falling. In winter.
And at the moment when the winter once again threatens to overcome, I end my slumber.
On that icy morning I wake early. Snuggle in.
Sipping coffee, by the fire. And I think of Spring.
13, October, 2009