WINTER

Friday, January 22, 2010

WINTER

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

It’s 3:40 am on February 15th.
The night bus is late, as usual.
I’m freezing cold.
Have to go to the bathroom really badly.
Starving to death.
Can’t wait to get home.

Hope no one robs me.
I hate carrying a lot of cash
But that’s how I make my money,
Reading Tarot cards at a club.

The snow is pouring down.
The wind bites into my cheeks.
It feels like lions are chewing on my feet.
What’s wrong with me?
Am I supposed to be enjoying myself?
Can’t wait to go to sleep.

How could anyone like any of this?
People who say they love winter must have a car.
Everything about this sucks.

I’m tripping off to Hawaii.
Sun pouring down on me.
My hunky boyfriend lies beside me on the beach.
Blond hair, blue eyes.
Built like a Viking, jaw made of granite.
Soulful eyes.
An ass to die for.

“Let’s go back to the beach house and make love,” he says.
“We haven’t done it in hours.”
We frolic in the sand and race back to the secluded house.
Our hair is streaked white from the hot, hot sun.
Money in the bank.
Hot love in the sack.
Life is perfect.

The bus comes and I hop on, back to reality.
By the time I stagger in the door of my tiny apartment,
After trudging two blocks through the freezing sleet and slush,
I feel ready to collapse.
No maid awaits me with a hot dinner.
No sweet lover in my bed.
Nothing but the silence.

Winter!
It’s not my cup of tea.