We're "enjoying" single-digit temperatures in this part of Ohio this morning ... but it has stopped snowing ... I think. I'm almost afraid to look out.
When I was a youngster, winter was probably my favorite season. Oh, I could've done without the tingling toes, the fingers sticking to cold metal ... the nose that froze ... but I loved the snow. It was like having a featherbed ... albeit a very cold one ... to romp on.
But that changed.
I suppose age has something to do with it, and I don't know if the weather is becoming more extreme ... or if I am becoming more sensitive to changes ... or it's all just my imagination.
I'm sure of one thing, though, a search of my extensive records would show that today's poem was written in the middle of one of those sizzling summer months when the pavement starts turning to goo and thoughts turn to the prospect of frying an egg on the sidewalk.
And I know this, too, I was looking for ways of surviving.
Ice-cold memories, pressed to the sizzling brow, may not be the answer, but I think they help. Right now, with the cold chasing me indoors after about ten minutes of shoveling, I'm storing up a lot of those memories.
I think I may already have more than enough to help pull me through whatever next summer's heat can bring.
The poem:
ICE-COLD MEMORIES
In the root cellar
of my mind
I have memories
of last winter
lying on the shelves
to help me survive
these front-burner
days of summer.
I shall pull them out
one by one, to press
to my sizzling brow,
daily hoping that
I have stored enough
to carry me through
until autumn
comes galloping up.
© 1995
(originally published in Capper's)
***
Today's word: sizzling
Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:
Oh, Southernmush ... I know what you mean about the layers and layers of clothing ... if I were to fall down outdoors, I think I would just roll around and around, until somebody came along to help me back on my feet. But remember ... as Professor Squigglee would say ... we're another day closer to spring. It's not just around the corner, yet, but it's out there ... someplace.
1 comment:
Hello Mr. Brimm,
Good evening. On my latest entry I ranted and raved about how I HATE WINTERTIME !!!!!! I do hate Winter. I hate having to get up and go to work when its like freezing cold outside. I am reduced to wearing layers and layers of clothing every day and pretty soon I won't have anything left to wear. I much prefer Wintertime in your poems than the reality of it outside.
I AM LONGING SO VERY MUCH FOR THE WARM WEATHER. Where is the warm weather Mr. Brimm ?? Oh where oh where has it gone ????
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and poems with us. Take care.
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