A City Girl In The Country
During winter I become an excellent cook.
I sit a lot and stand and look
At lake and forest that surround
The house on sides and front, the sound
Of birds calmed down somewhat,
As if they shared a counterplot
And changed their visit-timbre because
Ducks and geese have flown away.
The wagtail’s winter pause
Has taken him to Egypt. Now it’s peace
That takes the air. I walk
Much more without the need
To look in shops. I wear my tweed,
My well-worn tweed, as if it were
High fashion. In the winter
It is I who see an elk or deer
Before the hunters of next year;
I who get the benefit, burning up the calories
By walking through the snow to fetch
The post in minus two degrees;
I who never ‘kvetch’*
About the cold, dark living deep inside a forest
More than compensated by
A rose that never saw a florist,
Plums that I saw multiply,
Light that’s guaranteed to start
Increasing just when winter’s heart is coldest.
Here I learn to be alone – to face ennui,
The power cuts, the threat that lightening
Brings direct to my existence –
Without asking for assistance,
Keeping in a large-ish stock
Of matches, paper, wood and candles;
Knowing that to blow the rock can make a well;
Leaving on the radio to keep out vandals
When I go, will work quite well.
Everything in miniature:
Death, when summer-folk kill flies and gnats;
Love, each time I watch the cat’s
Abilities: clearing heights, breadths where I gasp;
Survival, when I’ve rescued creature from his grasp;
Cities blurred, just name and word,
Their essence shallows by the nearness
To an earth my ear has heard.
*kvetch Yiddish for ‘complain’.
A City Girl In The Country 10.19 .1996
Circling Round Nature; Swedish Book;
Arlene Corwin
