Cold has made my toes and fingers ice
Noon sun shines warm
I thaw myself
Book opened, legs crossed, I begin to read
But the distractions are many
Two buildings across-four floors down, a boy
Leaning over the edge for a glimpse of his friends, ready to play, his bat flung over
His mother leaning over after he rushes out
Policing his playmates and their bandwagon frolicking
A building across-one floor up, a mother and daughter hanging clothes fresh from washing
The mother is swift, executing actions rehearsed thousands times over
The daughter moves as a novice, leisure in her limbs
The mother looks over, shakes her head, knows there is much to be learnt, much to be done
Two floors down, a balding man teaching his grandson
How to garden on the seven flowerpots in their 12-by-10 balcony
They both squat down, rakes and shovels ready
And so begins the lesson of dirt, water, sun, seed and daily tending
The distractions are many and I forget to read the book of poetry in my hand
But the ice has melted.
woww