How Slowly the Brain Registers

Snow-coated trampoline, howfrosted the steely chair of you, slowlyslippery sidewalk, the breath clouds, thefringe of white in your beard at the root, brainshifting, sodden, lodged between ice floes, registersthe shy steps you take so as not to fall, the words, thestick in your throat, (the ones you can’t find—endfreeze) everyone will try to make you feel better, this ishow you’ll know, this is the catch, they’ll say, winter is near,they’ll say one more freeze, thirty more days, if only, howis your tomorrow? you believed them once, twice, more slowlynow, maybe it was many winters ago, you dragged your sled up thebiggest hill, you flew down that hill, disregarding the probability of braindamage, you didn’t need mittens, or a hat, you never said, How registersit outside? or … Sometimes when the sidewalks were slick, you stayed in thethe middle of the road, hot cocoa was reason enough to venture out, but no endto inside now, heat turned up to manipulate molten glass, fingers blue with cold, isthis even the indoors? Is this the great blizzard of you only live once, or not so near?