(Photo: Patricia Bour-Schilla)

I like the cold so brisk and fresh

it cuts through clothes

and crimps nose hair. I like

the winter mornings, dark at first

giving way to crystallized trees and pastel

sunrises. I like waking up

under six heaped blankets so deep I crawl out

of the mattress depression. The creep

of traffic and grumble of weather

is the Minnesota song. I feel the pinpricks

on my spine, the attention of every hair follicle

to tasteless air.

Holding on to morning in winter

with mittened hands, I like to greet

the day that steals

my breath.

Mary Wlodarski is a native of Minnesota, and a lover of nature and all things animal. She lives in Oak Grove with her husband, three horses, and miniature daschund. She is working on her MFA at Hamline University in Saint Paul while teaching high school English in Andover.

Art By:

Patricia Bour-Schilla is a wife, mother, and full-time student who loves to bike ride, hike, take photos of everything, and spend lots of time with family and friends.

Posted in: Poetry
Tagged: 2012, Featured, winter