a memory of winter in New England

 I remember a crisp winter day after the snow turned to rain and froze over. We broke through on the way to school. We wore those blonde workboots with the hard rubber heels and the laces like snakes crisscrossing their way up past your ankle. The trees were sparkling with frozen rain. Everything was still except the birds and the cars and the smoke coming out from the stacks. And the earth was moving but we couldn't tell. Not without any wind. And when the warming trend came to end, it got cold once again, and the radiators started hissing and clanking all through the night. You could see your breath and know for sure you were alive. Funny how that works. In the dying seasons.