cold steel

The car turned over with a groan and a grind. Driving the same block again and again to clear off the frosty window coated in icebox dreams. The cold axe pounding on stiff fingers and legs that are still weak from the last frostbite as the product in my hair stiffened up, only now starting to melt. Give me soft wet rain and cloudy skies of warmth, give me ocean's cold drip frostless in its movement. Give me a fleece and corduroy warmth on a brisk -7 topped off with an umbrella to protect the elements.

But the reality is bundled in layers of wool, cotton, fleece covering off on every inch, large warm hiking boots with cashmere wool coat to ankles. An inch of skin peeking out at the world and a bit of nose and shivering inside after the excursion still shaken and de-thawing. Looking forward to the high of -33 not withstanding the deeper darker coldness of the windchill factor.

Give me a hot sunny beach floating on a need to cool off in dark waters. Give me melting ice cream and jumping coals of concrete. Give me the warmth of skin burnt peeling and the smell of car tar melting around tires friction.

But the reality is cold metal steel and roads filled with the icy danger of brittleness. The crystal wind slick that hits bones and makes their home in the marrow of stiffness.