Anywhere But Here

This morning, snow turned to slush and slush to ice.
We live in Vermont after all.

From the phone ringing at 5:30 a.m. jolting me awake
only to announce a delay,
to the scooping of walks and nearly breaking my back,
to the beauty of trees heavy enough to turn out the lights. . .
I love this place of cold and winter.

Flatlanders and other people
drive north on the weekends
for what we have every day.

It makes me wonder why we would ever want
to be anywhere but here.

And tomorrow, more of the same.