I wore my old stinky parka
because I was afraid of freezing.
Then, one day, I felt the warmth
of the sun on my face.

So I unzipped it,
pulled it off,
threw it away,
and stood there in my swim trunks and t-shirt.

And the sun was warm,
and the air was calm,
and though the lake still had ice,
the geese were flying north.

I jumped in
over my head,
and washed myself
in the frigid water.

And when I climbed out over the
slippery, ice-covered rocks,
I was clean, and refreshed,
and alive, and warm.

I left my stinky parka by the shore
and walked away.
The stink wasn’t on me.
It was something I carried.