An Updike poem for thursday

by chuckofish

This poem is titled “January”, but it describes December just as well I think.

The days are short,
The sun a spark
Hung thin between the dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps track the floor.
Milk bottles burst outside the door.
The river is a frozen place
Held still beneath the trees of lace.
The sky is low, the wind is gray.
The radiator purrs all day.

-John Updike-

I grew up with radiators in an old house. They purred, but they were also known to bink and bonk and rattle, weren’t they? In my first house as a married person, we had radiators and I remember worrying that their audible antics might wake up a sleeping baby!

The boy and daughter #1 playing in front of a big ol' radiator.

The boy and daughter #1 playing in front of a big ol’ radiator.

Our house now has forced air heat. It turns on and off and blows quietly. I guess this is progress.

[We are expecting snow this afternoon, so, as usual, the local TV weather people are all in a tizzy. Daughter #1 is flying in from NYC, so let’s pray that she doesn’t get sidelined in Wichita (or anywhere else)!]