thirty below

frost branches on window panes
cold snap of knee joints and a settling of rock ice at the base of my spine
a stiffness
slowing
down

so this is how it feels to be the most tired i've ever been
the most desirous of some other life

birds in the window
no clouds.

in lit windows

walking home after dark i am an interloper
mostly alone in quiet    but afforded glimpses
into windows, warm inside, evidence of lives
of people having regular wednesday nights

kincaids hung above fireplaces
spider plant in the window trailing down
old christmas cards
an orange tabby
bookshelves
an ashtray
a candle

suspended in a moment outside moments
walking in between my own life and someone else's

soon i will be in my own moment, among my own things
a place i know without seeing    nothing to note here

a wreath i should have taken down
a green pillow
a bird cage
a ring

a fullness
a quietness

snowfall

and fall
       and fall
              and fall
and fall

untied winter boots
staying outside for way too long
having to pee and ignoring it
making snowforts in the hill
made by dad when he shovels the driveway
and my mother saying
don't go in there
it'll collapse on you
but it was just too perfect to let be

another sort of love

friend, you are loved. this is nothing new; you’ve had all of our love

for a long, long time. since we spent all our time riding horses
and drinking slurpees in the car, sneaking into bars and waiting around
for something that would resemble a real life. and then we all just became
grown-ups, or something like that. do you remember when?

i remember being right in front of the stage at a pub in a mountain town,
drinking beers and dancing and taking too many aerial self-photos, all crooked
and missing the edges, a crowd at the periphery we won’t remember.
do you remember how you told me then, yelling above the clamour,
that you loved him? a first admittance, the first step towards the best realization:
that you could be with this other person forever.

you and i have come so far from where we began:
from teenage silliness and the biggest heartache either one of us as ever known,
from drinking coffee and doing the crossword and holding hands during the eulogy,
from always knowing that we would love each other no matter what,
to learning something new: that there is another sort of love altogether.

this other sort of love, it comes with a big promise, the brightness of a future
you can rely on, a circle unbroken as the ring on your left hand.
this is the sort of love that you’ve been preparing for without even knowing it.
and you have your whole life to grow in it.

the first day

First real day in the new house and I am lying on the brand new bed, looking out the bedroom door at the china cabinet in the hall.  Eric has made sure to place Gumby behind the glass, arms spread wide, legs in a fabulous disco stance.  It's like he's singing, "welcome ho-ooome!" from inside the cabinet.  My head on the bare, new pillowtop.  I laugh.

He comes in, holding two pillowcases and one pillow.  He puts the first case on, chatting to me about washing machines.  He starts to put the second pillowcase on.

"Why are you putting that on?"

"This pillowcase?"

"Yeah.  You already put a pillowcase on that pillow."

"No, that's just a pillow cover."

"How is that different from a pillowcase?"

"It protects the pillow."

"Isn't that what a pillowcase does?"

"No, this protects the pillow, and the pillowcase---"

"What does it protect the pillow from?"

"It's in case your head explodes in the night."

"Okay, put the other pillowcase on, too, then."

This first day in our first house is also the day that marks five years of being together. We stand in the back porch, coats on, ready to trudge through the snow to find sustenance, and he arranges the hoods of my sweater and jacket so that they fold inside each other without bunching.  Just as he did five years ago, standing outside under the trees somewhere far away from this back porch.  He is older and stronger and better.  I feel so different.  This is our back porch.

This is something like a blessing.