Freak Storm

I spent the day walking
up and down Manhattan's
streets through a rain-snow mix
with a hangover's headache,
not dressed for weather,
and missed my bus.

Tourists leaned their umbrellas into the wind
and laughed defensively.

I didn't have an umbrella -
and soaked to the skin,
would not buy one from the street sellers -
was not laughing.

I found another bus
and spent the rest of the day
shiverrring
trying to will myself dry,
as cars spun off the highway
across the slippery
snow and ice no one
here was ready for.

It's not even Halloween,
for Christ's sake,
and now everything is blindingly white
and the trees are bent under the burden
like my back will soon be, as I shovel and curse.

But it was good to come home to
all three children sleeping
peacefully in one room and
to dry sheets
and warm blankets.