through a snow plow bank
I go with kid in my arms
and sink to my knees
cashier says, “It’s on the house.”
black coffee, white snow
I teach him how to
eat fresh snow — so many smiles
on the walk to school
from my bed I hear
the hollow scrape of a plow —
he dreams of Cali
Every winter at this time, Hubby starts extolling the virtues of California. Those virtues consist of one thing — the weather.
Every time we’re in California visiting his family, he always ends up telling me he would go crazy spending too much time in the car to go anywhere and fight traffic.
I try and remind him about his car concerns when he gets into his winter slump, but he always blows me off and tells me the traffic wouldn’t bother him.
Sounds like it’s time to go to California so that he can remember again (and, I won’t lie, for a little warmth).
“What’s that?” Han Min asks,
pointing to his ears. The roof
pops against the cold.
my cheekbones feel
as though they might
pop through my skin
Despite the negative air temp, I decided to walk little Han Min to school this morning. Previously this week, it was so cold I started the car and drove him, which felt like such a production considering we live next door to his preschool! Today I decided to brave the cold and do the walk.
The walk there didn’t feel so bad, perhaps because I was busy trying to hurry the little guy along. But going home, by myself, it felt SO cold! Running up the driveway, all I could think about was how cold my face was! I thought to myself, “I’ve never ‘felt’ my cheekbones before!”
six degrees outside
I’m peeing in an alley
Hubby standing guard
And I must say — the air wasn’t as cold on my private parts as I was dreading it to be! However, it’s possible I was just so relieved to be going that I didn’t even really register the cold! This must make me a true Minnesota girl!
climbing January’s snow.
How long can they go?
They bluster and bark
at an empty tree. What’s there
I wonder — vampires?
Damn Twilight. Ever since I read those books, I can’t shake the feeling that vampires are lurking in my night trees, watching me as I take my dogs out before bed. If you only knew how many nights I’ve hurried my dogs inside while keeping an eye on the sky. It’s even crossed my mind that my dogs are probably safe from these monsters of the night. They’re so small, they wouldn’t provide much sustenance. But then that leaves me . . .
I’ve tried several times to write a haiku about this fear, but I’ve either never been pleased with the outcome or, in a fit of self consciousness, chickened out when it came time to push the publish button. Surely readers would think me silly.
But since we’ve decided to relax our approach to haiku this year, to let ourselves write about whatever comes to mind, no matter how trivial, I decided it was time to finally share my vampire jitters.