O' Canada

She turns her brave
face against the cold
and up the perilous
     mountains of her stairs
shadow galleries of the fault lines of
      snow and dirty ice
 photographic
       in her vision

   Her glasses un-fogged
       sits in her tiny yellow kitchen
  watching firefly headlights
     in the grey fishbowl of
           her window

she contemplates the worth of
         even going out
              at all
her cat, indifferent, but not
          opposed to purring
    her favorite sweater has soup
            on the sleeve,
all point to staying, staying,staying

    of a good, fine , vintage
           she has no missing pieces,
 is completed

          of a true temper
 needs no filling in of spaces
          but still...

    the phone lights up
       her face blue and glows a bit
             The ones and zeroes
     are about to become a real person
       
            deep of voice she hopes, and please,
 no lying ways, and let him be
         not indifferent and not
               a whiner

like a true north, strong
           and free
              she doesn't make a fuss,
       pulls her boots on,
    sets out, because
         she can at least be
             polite.