We Believe, Without a Doubt

Doubt is the very essence of the scientific method.
Nothing is accepted until it has withstood doubt.
Doubt is the corrosion of religious certainties,
since pure affirmation without evidence is a shaky scaffold
from which to hold off curious and probing minds.

We are in the religious part of winter.
There is an enduring blanket of snow on the ground
and, day-by-day, more drifts down to rest.
We have no scientific proof that winter will endure.
We simply believe it. Nothing can change our minds.

A walk out to the mailbox at the curb is a skating lesson.
Pulling out into an open lane is an adventure that requires
room and time for unintended geometric maneuvers.
"Brrr!" is a greeting. "Hoowaah! is a figure skating move.
A quick return to the house is a response to the effect
of cold air crimping up whatever covers one's bladder.

We are sturdy, we northerners.
We do not complain.
We hone our snow shovels to a fine edge,
and pretend we are impervious to frostbite.
We adopt hearty attitudes.

We sit inside, licking beer like popsickles,
careful not to touch our tongues to unheated forks and spoons.
We wear socks to bed, and crawl between the covers,
finding our place with flannel bookmarks.

We are believers, without a doubt that we are adequate.
We have not a shred of evidence that we can endure this again,
but keep a stiff upper lip, not by choice, but by climate.

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