Notes from the Cold

Editors Note: Our west coast Bureau Chief finds herself in Cincinnati (her hometown) and sends us the following note.

By Andrea Scarpino

(Stuck in Cincinnati)

Things I’d forgotten about the cold: how it makes my shoulders rise into my ears, my back hunch, my hands curl into fists, my toes curl in my shoes. How my face flushes pink, my arms grow ashy, my shins chap. How my cuticles pull away from my fingernail beds. How my lungs burn when I walk quickly. How I want to walk quickly to get inside again. How I don’t look up from the path. I wrap my scarf higher around my neck, chin, mouth, nose. How my bones creek. How bitterness whips through my pants. And yet, how the sky is so clear, lovely. How my body tingles with life, fear.

Andrea Scarpino can be visited at www.andreascarpino.com

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto