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

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection THE SMELL OF TWEED AND TOBACCO available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.