To The Lady on the Train,
In this early December morning, we are only days away from winter solstice, the
longest night. This season the cold came late and sudden. Only two weeks ago we
were still in jackets and hoodies, laughing at how we have dodged the coming season.
Now we bundle dark layers, covered heads
bowed against a wind of daggers. Shuffling and stomping like cattle trying to
create our own heat as we wait for trains or trollies or buses. Our voices are hushed though the metal sounds of the city have sharpened. Even streetlights shine a cold edge, cutting the night.
The sky brightens in the
east and the sun will break red over icy clouds that rest just above the lake.
The day will push out the long night but won't bring to us any warmth. We will have
to brace our hearts and bodies for the long deep cold of winter.
The Man in the Station
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