12: June 2016 #05 - What Happens in Winter

Authored by Isabelle Wedin

What Happens in Winter

by Isabelle Wedin

By the first snowfall, I'm paler than ever,
wrapped up, too, in my fluffy coat,
just like the trees.
I try to start up a conversation, but
they just tell me to shed my leaves already
so we can all get back to sleep.
The snow freezes; I freeze, my muscles useless.
The snow cracks; my hands crack like bark.
I go outside and rub lotion on the snow;
it helps for a bit but then comes back worse.
The next morning, all the streets and sidewalks,
even the parts covered in lotion,
are ice, every square inch.
I chip at it for a while, but underneath
there's always more ice.
I stay out there chipping until nightfall,
chipping away at myself,
but never get down to the pavement.
I resolve to stay inside until it warms up again.
When it does, the snow turns to slush
and floods the streets;
it fills my shoes until it displaces my feet,
and suddenly I'm slush up through my knees
and then my thighs and then I'm the puddle
you mistake for asphalt.