Minnesota Holidays

Warm and musty, it was
always the winter. Snow
piling over snow, over
ice. Dive through it, and
never escape, or hope that
the snow's touch wasn't
more than a snap of
winter pain. Sitting inside
behind the light screen
in the basement, being
conversed to by TV
programs, admonished
by the mistakes of icy
fingers. The delicious
cocoa taste, warming my
mouth, branching through
my body, tunnels and
pathways looping and
washing the spirit of
vermillion and rose
that permeated through
each day. To pause and
consider the nightly ring
the black echo of the bell
the soft comfort of warmth.
Reminiscing as sweet dreams
and the depths of dust
that now run ragged through.
Even as snow falls.