My lungs were overloaded with recirculated,
filtered, fossil fuel-warmed air,
as I craved the slippery world through the glass.
Struggling but abundantly motivated,
I strapped the YakTrax over my trainers,
and emerged from my 950-square-foot cocoon.
Clouds formed before my nose and mouth,
as I released days of air shared with family and chihuahua,
before breathing in the luscious, brisk, crisp, frigid air.
Squeaks and clacks filled my winter neighborhood,
as the traction shoe covers embraced earth,
leaving first tracks on sidewalk, road, and frozen dirt trails.
I hustled to the river, delighted to move my body,
as the piercing wind reddened my naked face
in the bleak midwinter’s embrace.
Gaping as the vapor rose from the river,
I paused to notice the sparkling blanket,
left by the sleet, freezing rain, and brief bouts of snow.
The sprouts of spring, the lush greens of summer,
and the multicolored leaves and cool nights of autumn,
have their charm, but winter restores my spirit in inexplicable ways.
