"Come March"

"Come March"

-A. Browne Sebright

Its usually around 10:00 p.m.

when the cold of reality

begins to nip at your toes.

Typically it starts

the first or second week of December

as one by one 

unresolved memories ice over.

It might not be very comforting 

to say or to hear 

that the cold of reality sets 

at a brisk 4 to 7 degrees Fahrenheit. 

At this temperature, a day too many 

can pass by without a phone call or message

--One extra bill comes in to break the 

bank-- And one broken car can bring 

you to tears.

Many find themselves faced with 

the cold reality at a bus stop. 

But a transfer later after one 

meaningless conversation too many, 

you find yourself just a few 

layers too thin. 

The cold is long and the pain is real.

I've only found a handful of things 

that temper and mitigate that 

kind of chill.

A dance. 

A song. 

A warm embrace.

Long showers and baths and phone calls 

from home. I hope of love.

Day after day you might 

find yourself trudging through 

thick unresolved memory. Many were 

cast aside from other people's front 

lawns and many more came from the 

shadow of a building that simply turned 

its back on the Sun.

Yet even in shadow can love be 

found and a smile made.

Come March and April 

the ice will melt away.

Friends will be had 

and tears dried.

But in the meantime, 

it never hurts to shovel your driveway 

and sort things out for yourself.

Even the cold of ice and snow 

can be beautiful too.