Free Lunch

Rinsing dishes after dinner,
I hear squeals and giggles through the open window.
“You’re it!”
“Can't catch me!"
The ragtag bunch—
Annie in cockeyed pigtails, church dress, and bare feet,
Isaac ready for bed,
Bryce a blur in jean shorts and sandals.

It’s January.
Oranges, dropped from the back fence neighbors,
Perfect for pelting at little sisters.
Sunny day after sunny day.
Feels like vacation.
And I keep wondering when I’ll have to pay for it.

In Minnesota we earned our summers.
“Ya, the winters are hell, but the summers make up for them.”
Winter and summer.
Yin and yang.
Penance for pleasure.

The last three winters
We shoveled, bundled, deiced.
In May we emerged,
White-faced and paunchy,
Tentatively planting hardy begonias and geraniums.
Trading war stories with the elderly neighbors
Who spent the season avoiding the ice.

They marveled over our kids
Grown heads taller.
So if there’s opposition in all things,
When does the bad weather come?

Will all of the lucky ones
Who have spent their lives in
Texas,
Florida
And California
Be forced to spend a few years
Living in spirit Greenland?

While all of the
Minnesotans,
Alaskans
And Canucks,
Drink virgin pina coladas,
Listen to reggae,
And float on inflatable lounge chairs?

--originally published 1/13/06