A POEM FOR THE FIRST DAY OF WINTER

The secret

Is to learn to love

All kinds of weather

Because they say there is no bad weather

Just bad perspective

And my perspectives have been poor

On this broken world

With its broken inhabitants

And I was the worst

And I was the offended

And I was the one

Who dreamed of living my days

In climate controlled environments

Of isolating my self

From any days

Who weren’t a mirror

To my perceptions

To my opinions

To my dry sense of humor

But this year

For the first year

I celebrate the bone cold

Of winter

And the secret is

I am not really talking about

the weather