One Night We'll Walk Through the Snow

One night we'll walk through snow
I'll carry your bag full of books
You can tell me your day
We can talk about the soup we're going to make
When we get back home
The movies we're going to watch
The blankets we're going to lay under
The excuses we're going to use
When we call out of work tomorrow
If there's even work at all

We'll discuss the pros and cons
Of getting an unusual pet
I'll suggest a Peruvian groundhog
And you'll suggest an American hedgehog
And because you appealed
To my patriotism
I'll give in
And then we'll look at the dying houseplants
And say, with a romantic sigh--'Maybe next year'

We'll use our Monopoly board
As the foundation
Of a Popsicle stick castle
Complete with a billiard room
And a library containing the complete works
Of Joyce Carol Oates
We start naming Joyce Carol Oates books
And we go on for hours because she's written everything in the Universe

One out of every three books
Is a Joyce Carol Oates book

We'll make a snowman named Horace
And we will tell his tale to each other
And see how tragic we can make it
It's hard to put together now
But I'm sure it will involve
Polio, a train derailment, orphanages
And a cruel Dickensian aunt

We're both certain
That Horace is much happier
In our frontyard

We're happy that while some have jolly, happy Frosty
We have Horace, who doesn't need a hat to come alive
Just one of our manic storytelling episodes
And he will never, ever melt

What we cannot provide for ourselves in actuality
We supply in other ways
In stories
In snowmen
In promises

Next year the credit cards will be paid
Next year we'll catch up on rent
Next year a car will be purchased eliminating the occasion
Of a nice long walk in the snow

It's so hard to remember
All the things we want
And don't have

Because we love what we do have
So much

But it would be nice
To share this with another person

A person not made out of snow
Or Popsicle sticks

So maybe next year
We'll grow ourselves up
And become business people with ties
Or suburban people with sweaters
Or serious people with subscriptions
To the daily paper
Not just the Sunday edition

But in the meantime
We have blankets
And movies
And soup
And one sick day left
Until the end of the year

And we're going to take it

We're going to take
Our time