frigid

the weatherman warned of this approaching "arctic blast" but he didn't caution us against the trickeries of sunshine and blue skies making outdoors look so inviting when we skipped out to frolic and the pounding wind blew us backwards teeth chattering hopping up and down for the slightest of warmths and the old lady at the busstop took turns with me looking around the corner to watch for our ride while she showed me her songbook and we warbled hymns of uncertainty shaking fists to the sky. streets where we avoid eye contact and stare down into our scarves instead but sneak sideways glances at feet and figures. howling breezes that shout hollow nothings past my numb eardrums and rosy cheeks. we danced down aisles in the library peeking through books across shelves into stories. i read between yr lines and found a drop of confusion bursting into a puddle of inertia. when you called me three months later i didn't think of yr thick hair or yr laughing eyes but i could still picture you naked, narrow shoulders and all. impish, aren't we? sunsets aren't as beautiful when they signal the beginning of an even colder darkness, but maybe if we run out at midnight we'll catch some moonrays to warm our chilly skins. last week was springtime. winter today is frosty bike seats and not enough sweaters - winter today is a call to arms.