Back 40: Winter


If you were to ask me about pleasure
There are any number of things I could say:
Summiting a mountain, swimming downstream
The first bird of spring, the last light of day.
There are joys all around us
Weightlifting ants, and elk under their antlers.
I took my socks off today
And soaked my feet in hot water.
Now winter blows in
Cold through my cabin
I pull on a sweater, add a log to the fire.
People have told me
To take a tip from the birds
And change the scene. Arizona. New Mexico.
I prefer the wisdom of bears
And if you ask me about pleasure
You will hear me snore.

If you were to ask me about pleasure
I wouldn’t know where to start.

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