For this moment.
I have misplaced the children crying.
The gun shots.
This grieving world.
and the nightmares of masked men
pushing me down in the snow
and kicking me with steel toed boots.

I am half asleep wandering through a field of white.
(all is light) 

For this moment,
I have misplaced the cold.
I can stay outside all day 
(like I did when I was a child and nothing could stop me)
when the cold could not creak into my bones.

I bound up the hill
Never fearing my step on the icy slope.
I zoom down the hill
Never fearing the landing.

Never fearing
Crawling on my hands and knees.

Pure exhilaration.
Time and again.

I never grow cold.

I know what I know.

I am a creature of snow.
I can survive hard times and winter storms.

and if I do
on the otherside
I will be the spring meadow.
Growing again.



after Anne Sexton’s poem Three Green Windows