big cold

by midday i can see the sun-
a small rim of hollow light
in the enormous
white sky.

* * * * * my car only makes it
halfway up the driveway
before it is pushing
snow with the hood.
i drive in reverse
all the way
to the highway
and walk
home through
the wind.
in places the ground
is scoured bare,
while the next step
is a thighdeep
drift.
at home i stoke the fires
then head back out to feed.

the heifers huff warm steam
into my palm, bat
their huge frozen eyelashes.
i spread last years grass
in piles on the snow;
bright green and gold hay
looks so foreign
this deep in winter.

i carry a five gallon bucket
filled with water
out to the horse.
yesterday's water
is a block of ice
and he slurps happily
when i set the fresh
water down.  his lips
brush over my empty hands
in thanks.
later i wait
at the bus stop
with the sled,
and pull amelia home
in the track left
by the truck.
the world is so quiet-
it disappears into
white as far as i
can see.