ass over teakettle
I can't really explain it, but Minnesotans get all cozy and romantic when the temperature drops. Blame it on the sweaters and hot chocolate, I guess. As for outdoor activities, I'm a big proponent of winter running. I tell newbies two things: (1) it is pretty unlikely they'll freeze to death; and, (2) they might actually survive a slip on the ice -- if they'd just learn to fall correctly. I was going to write a quick post on the latter point, but my new cranberry joy diffuser inspired some weapons-grade bad poetry. Time of the season, I suppose.
Ass over Teakettle
When the sun drops at 4:40,
And the roads start freezing up,
Winter runners all fall down,
The ice will flirt and tease,
Until you stretch your stride too far,
Or look where you’re not going,
And then you’re going down.
But in that slide-whistle moment,
With feet so strangely suspended,
Don’t waste your cartoon star turn,
And never stiff-arm a frozen street,
With bony fingers and soft palms,
Force equals mass times acceleration,
And hands equal twigs plus crepe paper.
Just loosen up and tuck it in,
Trust your butt and shoulders,
And the ground might catch you gently,
Like a rec-room beanbag chair.
No skin off your nose,
(Well, maybe just a little),
But it beats those indoor treadmills,
High-tech hamster wheels.
Yes! Winter runners all fall down,
Breathing sweet cool air,
In the silver-blue light,
Between stars and snow.