katabatic ("fall winds")
sonnet, 2004
Her scarf is all important on this day.
She ties it as the Germans tie, envokes
The buttons of her coat to bid it stay.
The morning cold, the wild kind that jokes
About an avalanche with rounds of hail
Or threatens to send springlike spells of rain,
This rowdy morning cold throws her a veil
Of calm sobriety and warmth and sane
Awareness that one hour from now, all will
Be done, be known, be certain either/or.
Just one barrage, one buttoned hour until
The facade flaps free, exposes solid core.
Aye, there's the rub: the naked frozen neck.
Strange climate, where to not lean means to wreck.