Wintering

I'd November in Madagascar if I could
Hide out the winter in India's blazing sun
Sombrero on the sunny side of Columbian walls
Bare toe my way along a Cancun beach
Anywhere but here, this painted lady's arms
in winter can't begin to hold me down

Ancient distant lands of promise, promising
beginnings that never ended, mysteries
The touch of outstretched longings left behind
for a time in tangled sweat soaked sheets
Remapping this portion of the world in fingered sand
to suit ourselves and no one else, blown over

I've lived a chilled and wintered life, fingers stiff
Too bone-cold to see past smoky sun held low
against a horizon driving me to steaming soup
All the edges hazy, time now for clarity and warmth
A dawn that jumps, not drags me from my bed

My batteries may be solar, time to be recharged
An easing back of the throttle, coasting, drenched
in deep blue waters turning green with envy
at unclustered, undressed lying about
All afternoon to watch a spider on a wall

Ceiling fans and windows open to the breeze
of all I ever thought or hoped, the speck of someone
seen on the horizon, shimmering walks my way
Arms stretched and golden, I can wait it out
lying there in the afternoons of endless time