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.


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