I find little shame to admit
That even with all the bustle of the year
I can’t but help to glance longingly backwards
To the time where we were all
–Just a little–
On break.
Back when lights twinkled in windows
And meals felt sumptuous
And everything was just a little less
January.
On break.
Don’t we all need a little more time on break?
Time for snowflakes to stick to the long eyelashes of black ponies
For rivers to sparkle in the waning solstice light
For evening martinis to fade into strong, late-morning coffee
And jammy pants
With no guilt.
The Scandanavians find ways to embrace long winters
Why do we not find the Americans in this state
Snuggled by their fires in their neatly patterned sweaters
Slowing down, keeping warm
Taking their cue from the natural state of the world?
The phone dings loudly
The Mac tweets metallically
With little consideration for its rude tone
Back to work
Break is over
And the waiting game begins
At least til spring sends a tentative telegram to once again have hope
Until that day, keep the sweater
The strong coffee
The fire
Keep it all for now
And maybe the jammy pants too.