I am very good at clenching in the cold.
Might even go so far as saying that the winter
winds are friends to me,
at any rate I don’t mind snow
or hail when I can carry this bearcoat
and wear my coonskin hat and gloves.
It’s when I warm I’m worried,
thawing in a doorway
slow as pains of grief.
I don’t know what happens in front of fires.
I don’t know what hands do
after mouths invite inside.