Poem: A Hazleton Winter, by Mark Tulin

This poem was first published in the now defunct Vita Brevis Press.

A HAZLETON WINTER

I remember a Hazleton winter
The cars skidding off the road
Mountains of snow drifting ten feet high
The strong winds showing no mercy

It was quite a relief to get out of the cold,
to be inside my father’s produce store,
standing by the kerosene heater,
feeling my icy toes dethaw

For a moment, I felt a breath of spring
when I opened the wooden crates
of tangerines, fresh apricots,
and unwrapped the red delicious apples

I eventually got warm
with a steaming hot cup of coffee
while my snowy boots formed a puddle
in the middle of my father’s concrete floor.