A bundled man walked briskly by
his breath puffing white
like muttered cartoon balloons;
his footsteps quacked
on the snow like a duck
hoarse in the dry air.
A shopper boasted
he was going to the beach:
what’s the use of all the
hardening our cold summer
gave us if we had a wimp
of a mild winter?
The theatre parking lot was
a giant traffic snarl: wind hurled
blades of snow horizontal;
minivans blindly hugged the curb
in front of the entry, plan B if
the kids’ show was sold out.
Under the clear obsidian sky
and the achingly beautiful aurora
cars patrolled the crowded lot
tires groaning on the packed snow;
would-be patrons clustered around
the theatre entry, boots quacking
as they stomped to stay warm.
