Dogs 2007

FOGGING THE GLASS
(2/3/07)


I remember
the winters
as a child
not feeling
the cold
looking out
upon the ice and snow
as great adventure
not as a source
of frostbitten toes
or frozen
lips

inside
I would breathe
on the chilled
window panes
writing my name
or tiny messages
that faded quickly
like a negative
of invisible
ink

with
playmates
on the outside
however
the letters
and words
took a bit of thought
in order to translate
their meaning
correctly

backwards
to me
was forwards
to them
a simple concept
but not one that
the finger
easily performed

I write now
on a cold
winter's day
wondering
who reads my words
and if my meaning
is clear
or if only I
can make sense
of the message

I try
to turn a phrase
for an audience
in understandable form
but as I twist the words
for comprehension
they begin to lose
their significance
for me

and damn

my feet
are cold