The ride has always been something else, seldom
Something not, sometimes provocative, but really,
Some of the bones and bruises are starting to push
Through, and as expected, the brain is probably
Shrinking, but thank heavens I didn’t reserve a 
Plated box lowered down far enough from wolves
And hungry bears.  The snow isn’t even snow today
As it's just spitting, even melting in the eyes, so
Sniffing isn’t probably recommended as most of it
Will just settle in the gut only to make more 
Dripping snot when it’s so wet and icy out.
Mother was always asking when she would die,
As if anyone knew anything about expiration dates
For the dead, but she was the middle child and
Why was she alive when all the younger kids,
And even all the older sibs, were now resting,
Planted somewhere in the South where plastic
Flowers always bloom on yahrzeits even if none
Had ever heard of such annual events.  So here
I’m perched on a high chair, coffee and croissant
On a high table, looking out at busy bodies
On their way to their next adventure, or maybe
Just forgotten milk or eggs.  I wouldn’t mind at
All making an exit here though it would be
So unsettling for all around as two pre-teens
Giggle over vids on their brand-new phones,
Another is pouring over a philosophy textbook,
Probably required, both hands holding the head
To better absorb all the dense nonsense, then looking
Up, looking sad, looking out at the grey afternoon.
They might enjoy the novelty, for who wouldn’t 
Want to talk about what happened right next
To where we were?  There’d be a handful of 
well-wishers, but in another hundred years, who's 
going to remember any of this as who can recall
Even last year?  Of course I feel fine, but then
One day, all of us are not going to feel so fine.
Even the fading tulips I just brought home, now
They are all drooping terribly, blooms bowing
On the outside of that lovely green vase 
Where tulips and daffs always look so fine.
Outside, the snow continues to drip, with
Spring only four more years away for some
Of us, and some, as you know, will not see
Spring arriving with daffs and tulips on the
Lawn, but placed in parks all across well
Manicured lawns where stones tell us, if
We are curious, where somebody still is.
                        

Forget serenity, contentment, bliss, joy, even a
Happy happy, or a calm beating heart, for out 
Here, it’s miserably cold, and no one is opening
A door with a come-on-in, warm yourself up,
How about a cup of warm tomato soup, but
Instead, the pit bull straining to chomp all the
Way through to the shin is so much more
An existential angst, and the trick is not to let
The master with the leash think for even a second
You’re the least bit disturbed with facing a big 
Pit amputation.  Of course, the walk home at dusk
And opening the creaky door might open into 
Some sense of safety from the winds that break
Even frozen eyelashes, fingers numb, even with
Mittens, so clearly, it’s pointless to pick up anything
That might be of any interest even if what’s there
Is only a few feet away, and so, it’s like this every
Day, but it’s really not that cold out, and the pit
Bull is just a yappy chihuahua, and the door that
Leads to safety, well, let’s just completely forget
That as that comfort left so long ago.  So this is 
What we face.  Of course, you don’t think anything
Ever even close to this will happen to you, how
Could you, but just wait, those sunny days, warm
Sand beaches, a lovely person next to you who
Wants to bathe you in kisses just about everywhere
So just wait, you’ll see, even when you only wonder
Why all around you has suddenly turned quite
Chilly, and then an iceberg floats by with a thin-
as-bones bear who stares at just you, though 
What you see can’t even move to swim all the
Way to you, and eat in exasperation what 
You’d call you, but no need to worry, just wait.