In November,
you couldn’t believe how the wind
cut through your layers.
It was the coldest Thanksgiving you could recall
and hoped it wasn’t a harbinger
for the months to come.

In December,
some mornings were so brutal
that your Kindergartner wept at the bus stop.
You tried to warm him,
but your Michelin Man coats only
crinkled in the brilliant air.

In January,
you came up too fast on a red light
and slid into the intersection.
You were so grateful
there wasn’t a #4 bus
barreling down Bryant Avenue.

In February,
the cement-hard,
compacted snow
made the roads so bumpy
that a trip for coffee and eggs
felt like a drive on the moon.

In March,
you forgot about the parking restrictions
and became reacquainted
with the sinking feeling
of discovering a trampled patch of snow
where your car had been.

In April,
a friend said there was nothing more beautiful
than Minneapolis after a snowfall,
but you were ready for
road construction and mosquitoes.
Next winter has to be better, right?