with two toes I test
the temperature
of the linoleum
like a rookie member
of the Polar Bear Club
wondering if I plunge
right into the day
that the floor is as cold
as it looks from the cocoon
I’ve made with my bedspread
that the tiny icicles
forming on the AC ducts
are really part
of my imagination
then I’m forced
to look at Vonnegut’s
Cat’s Cradle lying
at my head board
and laugh so hard
that I’m crying
I jump out of bed
throw open the curtains
outside it’s bright
with just a touch of gray
