One January

For the past three days
my mouth has tasted
like I'd just licked
a tangy icicle
clear glacier
numbness spreading
from the root
of my tongue
melting into a
strange fresh taste
distilled from
a smell
of cotton sheets
dried outdoors
in early spring
sun and wind,
or water fallen from
a cleansing sky
dancing down my throat,
and I wonder
what
it means
what
it may bring.