Winter in Wisconsin - Melissa Kelley

[Larry Robinson]

Winter in Wisconsin

Let me tell you about winter in Wisconsin.
How the sun struggles to make an appearance at all
before it gives up and slinks from the sky,
leaving the school kids to tote their heavy backpacks
home in darkness.
How the nights stretch and stretch 
like some cruel magician’s trick
where the rope of scarves never ends,
and month after frigid month
stumbles forward on frost-bitten feet.

Suddenly, one morning, the light feels less meek.
The mercury wills its way past 40
and the mounds of sooty snow begin to sweat.
Children and puppies explode out doors
like champagne corks,
while translucent men strip their shirts 
and gleam in the startling sunlight.
Young girls – goose pimples be damned! – 
pull their shorts from the bottom of the drawer.
The lawns fill with Frisbees and runners and the laughter
of a carnival, or collective madness.

In a way, we are all enduring winter in Wisconsin now:
Hunkered down in our homes, 
we read or watch movies.
We bake and clean out the back closet,
paint the living room,
biding our time, biding our time,
while anticipation churns like a gathering storm
as we wait, impatiently, for spring.

	- Melissa Kelley