Ice in the air all morning—you could see it—
gray sky, cars creeping along the exit ramps,
and a chill sunk in on my
second trip to the grocery store.
I was amazed anyone showed up for work!
"You're exaggerating." Sure, but we could be
holed up for days, hiding from the
Arctic air, cultivating our coziness.
No bonfire tonight, no party.
The postman arrives at dusk and gathers up
the package of homemade cookies
we placed on the doorstep this morning.
How lucky we are as the smell of onion pie
fills the house and a cheery soprano sings out:
"A happy life did I lead among the enamoured."
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