Your royal purple scarf explodes with color
against unwelcome December chill--
25 degrees this morning, heater
outside I pray will last another year,
working overtime. Your scarf
is "for cooler Florida weather," you wrote
on an accompanying card, high-
lighting a milky moon over
an indigo Vermont landscape.
"It's why I love winter," you wrote,
where skiing cross-country with your husband
goes with frostbitten toes.
Girls together, we were, both
of us widowed now, in a sisterhood
passing the half-century
mark, though I seek warmth
and you seek cold, moving
ever Northward to find it.