The Girls of Winter

The Girls of Winter

By Jim Harrison

Out the window of the bar I’m watching
a circle of girls stretching and yawning
across the street. It’s late January and 74
degrees. They love the heat because
they are a moist heat. Heat loves
heat and today is a tease for what comes
with spring around here when the glorious birds
funnel back up from Mexico. The girls
don’t care about birds because they are birds.
I recall in high school a half dozen
cheerleaders resting on a wrestling mat
in short shorts in the gym, me beside them
with a silly groin ache. What were they?
Living, lovely, warm meat as we all are
reaching out of our bodies for someone else.

2 thoughts on “The Girls of Winter

  1. This is a great piece of writing. I especially enjoyed the metaphor, “they love heat because they are heat” and ‘they don’t care about birds because they are birds.’ I wish I thought of that.

  2. Jim Harrison’s memory of his confessional contemporary details has put our self in his own concave mirror in an uncomplicated state of objectivity and convincing imagery in consciousness of longing for a gestural open resonance
    of an oral love in his poem.

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