Witness the Small Life – Cold Comforts

We’ve made it… the bend-and-COLD!-snap!!! Do we ever really feel alive unless we can’t feel our eye sockets anymore?

In honor of the frozen weather, I’ve been appreciating all the accessories and layers in my life that keep me functioning from sun up to way past sun down. As someone born and raised in the flux of deadly winters and chilling winds I’ve always had a plethora of hats, gloves, scarves (you name them) every since I was a kid. I think most people can look back to their favorite pom-pom hat or various kitten mittens in fond childhood memories traipsing around in the snow and sledding over death-defying hills. Although I’ve lived in the cold for the majority of my life, I can never ever get used to it. I blame it on my eczema or my penitent for tank tops or anything else I can use as an excuse but no matter what I do in a mere 2 minutes my teeth are chattering all the way home. Because of this, I’ve been giving extra thanks to the scarves that swaddle me and the hats that flatten my bangs a little too much. Each of them carry a piece of a past self or a loved one who cared enough about my warmth to make or gift me a little something that could carry comfort through a chilly walk home. Fabrics found by my roommate’s mother, hats passed down to me from my boyfriend’s family, and even skills shared to me from my grandma and cousin are woven into each hat, scarf, and mitten I wear. The next time I’m outside (which will be far too soon) I can feel a little bit warmer knowing the love and care I have with me as I scurry through yet another icy wind storm.

To take into our next week:

Ins: Chamomile tea (always), muted purples, actually interesting text books, aloe vera, hair pomade, perfectly fitted hoodies, overalls, a solid hug.

Outs: Nails that are too long, scorching soup, weird hoods on winter jackets, gel eye masks, ignoring when your feet are too sore, eating one too many anchovies straight out of the tin.

I hope everyone is bundling up in their favorite mittens and gators and earmuffs galore as we all try to survive these next few days of tundra. I task you all with finding and appreciating one another’s fanciful winter accessories as there are too few days when we get to wear all of them all at once!

Capturing Campus: Christmas for the Dead

Christmas for the Dead

In the graveyard

with holly and mistletoe

on old oak trees

bare limbs and tinsel

a celebration past sundown

paper snowflakes on headstones

and candy cane bouquets

that can’t be eaten by those with  

missing fingerbones and teeth in odd places

and no nose to redden 

from the biting chill of eve

but they gather and lounge

on hills that are their final home 

to proclaim the festivities are for all

and to all a goodnight 

Wolverine Stew: Snow in a Lamplight

It is quiet here, footsteps home

Masked in the flurries of cold I

Cannot fully see but certainly feel

Merging with my face

Crackling like static, like muffled rain

And I walk along the lines of amber light

Watching the snow quickly fall

Into and out of the glow, out of being seen

And yet still it grows into the winter

Morning. I’ll see it through frost

Blooming on my windows

And the snow will become

Blizzards, rain, thawing puddles, clear skies

But for now, it is still

It is quiet here

Capturing Campus: December

Violent Midnight

blurry eyes

heavy face

itching for sleep

that won’t come

because the ball will drop at midnight

shining in a million colors

levitating like a God

among men

the crowd stretches 

blocks away

counting down

destruction in ten

shattering

fracturing

an explosion

ringing ears

ring in the new year

new excitement

five minutes until midnight

and I’m starting to question

the expense, an effort done

just to destroy the ball

why ring in the new year

with violence

one minute

thirty

fifteen

ten

nine

eight

seven

six

five

four

three

two

one, it drops

but doesn’t plummet

falls but doesn’t break

why did I expect it to

b r e    a k ?