Freeze Warning

So cold this morning, down to 22 degrees!   Shivering as I pulled myself out of bed, I remembered this poem I wrote years ago for the collection that became Catching Light.

Nightcap

        Freeze warning.

  Leaves curled on emptiness

         crawl across

        sidewalks.  My gatepost

surrounded by wind jangles

         nonsense.

           I’ll stay put

          and kindle

        some fat wood

     with yesterday’s

   newspapers ripped to

        confetti.

    But what if the matches

won’t strike, the chimney

     won’t draw?

   What if  goose flesh

      I hug to my breast

 shivers not from the ice

        

 waiting outside but inside

 where no slug of whiskey 

       can thaw it?   

         

             Hush!

   I’ll take  a  jelly glass

    down from the pantry.

          Now stand back

        while I  pour a jigger

         of bottomless fire   

           

                    water,

               straight-up.

                 Last call.