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My sister-in-law mailed me Massachusetts autumn leaves.  I received them
yesterday, neatly wrapped in plastic.  Winter is very close to her now.  Winter is
always far from me, here in the land of forever summer.  Late this afternoon,
I was at the beach, gazing at the green sea, contemplating the world, hungry
as hell.  I had only eaten a salad the whole day.  I began contemplating
delicious foods, fried clams, lobster, a tasty hamburger one could get at any pub
in Massachusetts, all which are unobtainable here.  I looked behind me, at the
restaurants and bars that I could see and at those I couldn't.  It didn't
mater.  I have tasted the food at them all and in comparison to the food in my
thoughts . . . .No one moves to Florida for the food.  Depressed, I decided to
forego going anyplace for food.  I would leave in a few minutes, go home and
stuff some cheese and crackers and a glass of wine into my mouth and then make a
good dinner later on.  Still . . fried clams, an Italian restaurant my husband
and I used to go in the North End of Boston.  Fenway Park hotdogs.  Winter.
Seven/Eight months of cold frigid air, running to the car, running to the
office, running to get out of the cold. This last thought saves me from regret.
It is the end of October.  It is 83 degrees at five o'clock and I am lying at
the beach looking at green water and white sand.  My stomach is tanned and
flat, no fried clams. lobster and veal parm to influence its size. Winter cannot
touch me here.

"Winter"

Snow can wait
I forgot my mittens
Wipe my nose
Get my new boots on
I get a little warm in my heart
When I think of winter
I put my hand in my father's glove
I run off
Where the drifts get deeper
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown
I hear a voice
"Your must learn to stand up for yourself
Cause I can't always be around"

     Tori Amos