Article: 261266 of talk.bizarre From: gilbert@io.org (Zvi Gilbert) Newsgroups: talk.bizarre Subject: old woman winter Date: 1 Dec 1995 00:35:38 -0500 Organization: The Church of Maximum Occupancy Lines: 55 Message-ID: <49m47a$n89@ionews.io.org> Status: O X-Status: I once met old woman winter, in a windmill, under glass. It was the longest trip that I ever knew, past stretch of sky and into sharp and seamless blue. I was there once, and I wore this same coat and this same hat and the old tie that looks like a siamese cat. Old woman winter is bigger than a bear and has arctic white flowers in her bony hair. She's a mound of old white stuff and she wears a beard down to the top of the floor. When she starts to hum, you wish she'd say more. She's got a pair of scissors to sweep her home clean. I met old woman winter and I asked her this: Where is summer's drum, in winter infinite sky? Where is the heart that goes like a top? And how can we know summer when we know it's not? And old woman winter said this to me: "Boys are blue and girls too; When winter runs, it runs by two." I gave her an egg for my hospitality, and old woman winter smiled and showed her beautiful teeth clear like icicles. She made me sit down in the old room where time flows like water. I was snug inside the blizzard. And I asked her this: When will spring's engine come again? How do I know when the grass will grow? And what is the meaning of the dangerous cold that creeps so soon? Old woman winter said to me: "Girls are blue, and boys are too; When winter runs, it runs by two." Old woman winter baked a dazzling smell-of-winter cake. The frosting was real frost, bright sweet lemon white. The filling was made of secret snows, found only at the poles where all the air froze. And I asked her this: Will there be a time of light white sun? How does winter become undone? And does the sky remember the warm of the breeze that blessed it so? Old woman winter said to me: "Children, boys and girls are blue When winter runs, it runs by two." Snug in the warm snow bed, old woman winter tucked me in. With a rhyme for my sleepy delight, the polar bear and penguin and arctic owl on the mantelpiece looked at me with light. And she said to me, "When winter runs, it runs by two." --Zvi gilbert@io.org the present weighs heavy on the time before