by Nika Krasopoulou
my citizens
my neighbors,
we all should brace ourselves, i think, for a long and tumultuous winter. so sew back that button on your coat from last year. look at the sunny sky more and more now that we still have it. keep an eye out for your fellow man and woman. hold the heavy door open for the stroller-mother. give your seat to the auntie shepherd-of-grocery bags.
now might be a good time to bleed your radiator. teach your children how to, too. one day they’ll be alone, in a cold cold room, and they’ll wish you had.
get new detergent for the linen. it’ll give this winter character. maybe this will be the winter of lavender. maybe the winter of lemon, or of jasmine. every household will benefit from remembering this season by a welcoming scent. remember a house can be a home, even your house.
this cold is not like a bad dog, this cold is here to keep you aware of the world, not to keep the wolves at bay. this cold’s bite is worse than its bark. so do no harm. do not litter, either. i can promise you every body pressing against you at rush hour has wondered, at some point, maybe right now, if they will ever be loved. i can promise you this, i know this is true just as how everyone on the train cried on their first day of kindergarten is true.
so gear up with cough drops and tissues. lose them to strangers on purpose.
at night, hold each other close.
Nika Krasopoulou is an artist and poet from Greece. They are part of the artist collective Tutti Frutti, currently working on their first poetry anthology and a novel both. They write in both Greek and English and currently reside in the USA.