I feel the cold
through the glass door
that opens
to Michigan winter
my nose
pressed against
the flat, icy pane
my eyes wide open
my uncles stand
on the other side
probably stomping their boots
rubbing their frigid hands
together
their breath
catching in the air
on ice particles
before they melt
on their words
I remember
the cold
as my nose pressed
against
the glass door
that opened
to Michigan winter
my very first
memory
it lives
tucked away
in the corners of my
periphery
it floats up
from time to time
when I open the door
and feel the cold
of Colorado winter
greet me
it floated up
last summer
as I stood before
that very childhood door
on a visit home to Michigan
and the memory
came to greet me
fully formed
my two-year-old self
floated through the years
through the cold to the
warmth of Michigan summer
through the journey
of my life
to stand beside me
hold my hand
and whisper
remember?
