You know those days when you’re
Convinced you’ve gotten away easy
Dodged one of Life’s bullets?
There’s a mix of gratitude for faith proven
And complacency; a delicious sweet relief
An almost giddy joy ready to rise and
Percolate through your marrow…
And then “it” happens.
IT was merely “winter”…in my relatively
Temperate neighborhood (Pacific NW, USA).
We’d had no white Christmas, January
Had skated by without snowfall or
Hazardous ice to ratchet up my fear of
Falling, keep me housebound… And perhaps
Some instinct had moved my slow bones
To stock the larder anyway, and catch up
The laundry, which requires going outside to
The separate building housing our facilities.
I was enjoying the happy peace of any
Accomplishments ageing has not yet stolen;
Eager to cook a pot of creamy potato soup
With bacon, and settle into another
Patricia Highsmith novel… “Ripley”, her
Sly-scheming character who can escape
All but suspicion from multiple murders!
I’d paid no mind to the forecasts of
Possible snow…there had been nary a
Cloud, and temps remained comfortable
For this fat-insulated body.
Habit of curiosity, I glanced out the
Bedroom window, and oh…such a sight:
Belated Christmas card’s winter wonderland
Delight (my quite uncharacteristic response).
Silent snow, meringue-whipped white, fell
With determination of workers pressing
Toward deadline, the boss’s frown leaning
Weighty shadow over their shoulders.
For several days the sky was a burst
Bag of sugar spilling winter, undeniably
Pretty as it accumulated soft, heavy
Bringing normal activity for many to a halt:
Traffic, a horror; schools, workplaces closed.
Yet, soon I was itchy to take my chances—
Abandoning year-round sandals, I hunted
Packed away boxes for shoes with some
Semblance of tread. I donned gloves
Pioneer attitude, grabbed cane and bested
The hill for “just in case” groceries.
It was challenging for most—our area
Isn’t well prepared, experienced with
Snowfall: the county plows roads
And dumps their work onto sidewalks
Blocking some residential driveways.
Thus, pedestrians had to manage mute
Mountains of muddy sand-mixed snow.
There wasn’t garbage pick-up, no one
Could get in or out of our parking lot.
As melting began the cycle of
I congratulated myself for not submitting
To panic, depression in chilled isolation.
I mourned only the single silly cherry
Tree which every year puts out blooms
Too early, then freezes… And laughed at
Intrepid high-stepping crows.
Brief flurries teased last Sunday’s dawn…
But surely the surprising, sparkling
White wonderland is over for this year 🙂.
©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.