I reach across the icy plain
of my car’s windshield, plastic scraper in hand,
stinging wind, snow piling into my boots,
and decide I want a garage.
I want spring to arrive two weeks early,
since by May I’m scrabbling for sun;
and if I can’t change geography I at least want
East Coast and West on the same time zone,
save me from straining against the hours
as I try to call Seattle.
When it gets warm again, I think I’ll take up swimming.
I want to sink to the bottom of a deep pool
and stay there a while.
Underwater I’ll finally be able
to do all the yoga poses
my stiff inflexible body can’t manage on land.
writer's note
I have always lived in cold climates, and never in my adult life have I had a garage. There's something humbling about going to shovel snow off the car in your pajamas. Since writing this in winter 2023, I have indeed taken up swimming.