winter and I walk together quietly

footsteps muffled by beneficent snow

each at home in solitude

thus able to share a common road

other seasons seem raucous gauds

with foliaged extravagance, endless cerulean skies,

impossible newly-sprouted beginnings

this brief companion makes no such demands

does not even ask my presence

in such calm equanimity I find it easier to breathe

and I am grateful

I once took a dollar bill and a quarter from my mother’s purse

not to spend but to contemplate

why did this slightly crumpled printed thing and a shiny piece of metal

mean anything at all

I rubbed them both in turn between my fingers, fascinated by their texture

unable to determine if the bill were paper, fabric, or something in between

liking the ridges on the edge of the coin

( I can identify this one when I can no longer see, I thought)

I carefully put them back, still mystified as to their value

many years later I remain so, the best explanation being

they’re part of our collective fairy tale, childish playthings

we’ll abandon when we grow up

angular bones and plain flesh

hatched by scars hard won through time

considered answers to genuine questions

though replies appear wild cards

they’re never drawn from an unknown hand

sometimes they address the silent plea

one unvoiced that speaks so loudly

it cannot be ignored except to be unkind

thus the responses that seem nonsensical

no matter, tuck them down into some side pocket

find them one day when they are needed