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This is Snow Day to be Without You
Digital warmth and analog warmth
Floating and drifting and landing and melting
on streets still warm from yesterday’s sun
while decimal thermometers
count down the degrees to freezing
A good day
for hot soup
in old mugs
by a gas fire
But
Soup by myself
brings only warmth
measured by
digital thermometers
I want
the warmth of your hug
the warmth of your hand
the warmth of your smile
the warmth of your lips on mine
Soup can wait
for your happy return
tomorrow
My wife is at the shore having a “Queenagers’ Weekend” with her sister and sister-in-law. They’re having a good time, and their weather is nice for this time of year. They’ll be back tomorrow. Meanwhile snowstorms aren’t the same, here alone.