I live here – kicking along the 45th parallel
between tropic tangle and arctic ice.
A warm hard rain pour in January
greets me in the saturated morning
while I watch from in between, getting wet.

This winter drizzle, chill damp nights,
belong to the realm of burgeoning –
frizzled messes of underground roots
plunging chaotic where they cannot be seen
entwining with others of their kind
where leaves and flowers are born
in the dark cold wet wormy wild ground!

I should go inside where it is warm
with electric gadgets to keep it all safe.
But where then the dark dreamy winter
in these temperate climes and soggy bogs?
Out here, creatures are beginning to stir –
bugs in every downed log, caught
in the tangle of brush by the back fence,
within the rock pile gathering emerald green moss.
All the wonder of life being born and I…
I am pushing out waves of steamy breath
somewhere along the length of parallel 45
under forgiving stars on this winter night.
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Portland, Oregon – 45° 34′ 18.44″ N – January 14, 2021