poeming on a tuesday

under this blanket of snow we call winter

i can't cover my feet with enough warmth
to make the cold fade away even with thick boots.
i can't cover my legs with purple layers
and expect that outside, my ears won't hurt
if they get exposed.
                              i can't undo this winter.
i can't undo this wintering.
i can't undo anything.
it keeps snowing and the cold
keeps right on vortexing.

but i can pile a blanket on the warmth.
inside, i can wear as many layers as it takes
to stay not freezing outside. i can keep drinking tea
and wearing bright colors and using
all my senses to stave off the deadness of white
over all the evergreens.
                                   and i can fumble
for words to describe this achiness, this fatigue,
this hibernation i am feeling. i can stumble
along, doing the best i can.
i can wait it out.

and under this blanket
of snow we call winter
i can feel
              the sap inside of me
start to run with the memory
of spring to come.