Old Man Winter Poem by Curtis Johnson

For the most part, in western region of the planet, the smoke and wild fires are gone for 2020, and back east, after much destruction, the hurricaneseason has run its course. We pray that this winter will be less severe.

'Cold' is what I used to experience walking on hardened soil. 'Cold' is what I observed of icicles dripping from roof tops. 'Cold' is what I used to feel while growing up in the deep south.'Cold' was early childhood, being too poor to afford indoor bathrooms,and visits to the outhouse on a cold January night was the only option.

'Freezing' is what I used to feel when I lived several years in Chicago. 'Freezing' was Chicago snow, ice, and a wind-chill factor without mercy. I miss neither driving in the snow nor automobile skiing on all four wheels.

Fog horns and earth shakings in San Francisco, but no sign of Old Man Winter.I enjoyed 'early morning fogs and pleasant afternoons' in the City By The Bay,and in the California Central Valley, I'm pleased with 'mild winter temperatures'.

For the first 29 years of my life, I well understood the meaning of 'Old Man Winter'. I have not purchased or owned a heavy top coat for more than 40 years, and whenattending my mother's funeral in Chicago in 1999, I was forced to borrow my brother- in-law's coat. I like the 'winter feel' of where I am today, never being 'iced' by Old Man Winter.

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