By Liz Ahl

We swear this year our house has gotten colder—
we shiver now in fleece that once sufficed.
It could be that we’re both just getting older.  

Our inner fires have slowed from blaze to smolder:
metabolism’s gradual demise.
And yet, we’re sure the house has gotten colder

as climate change makes winter veer bipolar
and just this year the basement’s flooded twice.
Of course, it could be, as we’re getting older,

the frames and joists and joints begin to molder
in ways that shouldn’t come as a surprise.
These rooms we age inside are so much colder

than just last year. Time gives us her cold shoulder.
Although the thermostat swears otherwise,
our bones know it’s not just us getting older. 

Our skin has thinned. We ache from toes to molars.
Our insulation’s tunneled through by mice.
Both things are true: the house has gotten colder,
and, sheltered here, our bodies have grown older.

~~~

Liz Ahl is the author of two full-length poetry collections: Beating the Bounds (2017) and A Case for Solace (2022), which won the 2023 New Hampshire Literary Award in poetry. Her most recent of several chapbooks is A Stanza is a Place to Stand, published in 2023 by Seven Kitchens Press. Individual poems by Liz have appeared recently or are forthcoming in Rogue Agent, Cherry Tree, Rhino, and River Heron Review.