Poem: Staying North

There are winter people and beach creatures. I am a man who must have snowy winters to survive. Lead me not into Sun City.

Staying North

Late season snowstorm,
not even falling, somehow
suspended, boiling in updrafts,
if snow can boil
Large flakes, heavy with weightlessness

Is it genetic, this need to see winter,
to pull it around me,
warming my soul with cold shrouds
A north-country man, longing for south,
yet held here by need of winter magic

Comfort lies nearer equatorial lines
Warm colors, a gentle breeze of friendship,
more easily acquainted in un-bundlement
In love with places leaves never fall
Drawn there, held here

The inside-ness of winter
Steaming breath left at the door,
chairs pulled to warmth of fires,
conversation intimately huddled
A warmth in cold, found nowhere else
Poetry Collection: The Smell of Tweed and Tobacco
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman's
poetry collection


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