This poem was inspired by the painting "Device Circle" by Jasper Johns (it has a lot of red in it) and by snippets of poems from "The Rain in Portugal," by Billy Collins
at ten past twelve
on the reddest day of the year
bundled in layers to ward off winter
you and i
head down a snowy path
it is our choice
no one is making us do this
we go willingly but not
uncomplainingly
we do it because
it's supposed to be good for us
walking
even in the cold
even if we hate it
we call it trudging
the way we move
one short step at a time
we are not in a hurry
we never hurry
we say we are too old to hurry
ten past twelve
a good time to set out
morning chores behind us
the heart of the afternoon right here
surrounding us
later we will have tea
and buttered toast
we might shell pistachios
i wonder if there are any figs left
wait
that is in the land of future-maybe
and we are practicing being in the
present-now
the present-now that shifts
second by second
so if either of us checked our watch
(which we do not)
we would see that it is no longer
10 past 12
it is 15 or maybe even 20
minutes beyond noon
noon is just a memory
now is the cold air of this moment
the wind burning your eyes
my fingertips cold
though i had high hopes for these new gloves
you will not wear a scarf
you simply will not
but you do own a hat with ear-flaps
and you are wearing it
i wear a sweater
and a vest
under my coat
i waddle
you are more sure-footed
not quite as layered
you don't complain that i complain
i have not stopped complaining
since we left the house
i don't mention that you are sniffling
and not using a hankie
i say
we are two odd ducks
you laugh
you don't quack
though i suspect you want to
it is too cold to quack
a quack would freeze midway
in the air between us
when we get to the end of the path
we can turn right or left
if we want to continue
but we do not want to continue
so we turn around
and head back in the direction of home
it is no longer the reddest day
it has become a bluegreen day
with patches of white
that are neither snowflakes
nor clouds
once we are home
wearing only our indoor layers
and our noses have warmed up
you kiss me on my forehead
and i kiss you on your forehead
and then you go to make the toast
i put the kettle on
it will be bengal spice tea today
