Winter weather brings
certain little things
like peppermint mocha coffee
slipping, silking
swilling, spilling
down my throat
while the cold rain dots
those dirty windows
and a cat brrmm-brrmming
in nautilus form on my lap
with eyes so carefully knit closed
chimney burning
and cold, cold air
fill my nose with
"the smell of winter!"
from my childhood.
Get-this-done tasks
hammer-heading
but not mattering
because in 40 years,
you won't remember
eyebrow waxing,
but you will remember
the slinky cat
that keeps you warm
in a house with no heat
and the smell of Christmas