car covered with snow

I really like the poem Car Covered With Snow. I’m really jealous too. I once tried to create a similar scene in a short story: the character sitting inside a car whose windows are blocked by dew and hesitating to hit the wipers. Needless to say, Boruch did it much better.
She really captured that safe other-world you find yourself in when you sit in that kinda car-cave. “the stillness is such/that I lose how the day works.” Shit. that line is just too much. “I lose how the day works” isn’t that true? for those few seconds you sit in that little steel cabin and forget about the school or
work you’re running late for, and it’s great.
the she brings her kid into the scene. and he’s got those great lines: it’s like “we’re/in a closed fist, Mama./Or, it’s like the car’s eyes is closed.” personally, i like the closed fist one better. I’d maybe say “yes, it’s a closed fist” cause that’s it. you feel safe and protected and sense that the snow knows what it’s doing out there, wrapping around the car.
I also love the lines were she mentions the cardinal making noises outside the car. those familiar sounds you’re now blind to that remind you that you can’t sit in the car all day. and you probably wouldn’t want to because what is perfect for a few seconds soon may lose that something special. In a subtle way Boruch gets that idea across. that those awesome moments only happen in those few seconds that you stop to take a breath and notice them.

-wes edmond