WHY OUR GODS
I think it’s the weather: the snow, the wind,
the cold. To be small targets, all winter
we wear our shoulders under our ears. Plans
made on sunny days come to naught when snow
fills the roads and paths and knocks out power
lines and we must stay and shovel and feed
the stoves. Our houses get smaller. Husbands
and cats take up more spaces. Complaining
dogs follow us from room to room. This is
why our gods are relentless, slow to forgive,
determining, unpredictable, hard.
Their will is as slippery as the ice.
They don’t approve when we, in our clumsy
boots and heavy jackets, try to dance.