Stomping my feet in doorways,
puddles slowly spreading from cast-off boots.
Joy that settles quietly in a blanket
blowing my nose into my mittens,
already soaked with snowmelt
trudging-yes- I miss trudging!
The cold, the feeling of cold
and keeping warm as an activity
the primary activity.
Something constructive to fight
Putting on the heat and the windshield wipers in my car,
a complicated dance of agency between the fog and the frost
the crack of ice in a puddle
the whole world as my playground
breathing in snow-filled air
visibly magical now
looking up into a dizzying snow spiral
tasting metal, cold blood,
a glimpse of eternity frozen
my forgotten element,
enemy that I hold close
struggle made beautiful by necessity
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