Wading into Winter

Near midnight
I feel the rumble of trucks,
not so far from home,
making their way from New York
to the east coast of Vermont.

The windows are closed
against the unexpected cold.
leaving us feeling the flashes
like shivers on our naked bodies,
against the summer sheets.

When fall swings into the shorter days
like a forgotten winter dream,
daring us like roulette to curse the cool,
we know better and put on a layer,
a sweater and jeans, and our high top Converse sneaks;
maybe even a shawl and heavy socks
knitted by someone's mother.

We know better to take a blanket from the linen closet
or even a quilt and rock quietly, or take a nap
before opening our mouths
to complain.

Any Northerner knows
that winter is always worse than this day
that feels like you are wading
into the cold water on an early summer day
when you just aren't ready
to take the plunge.