Finishing NAPOWRIMO - Day 19 - Opposite Poem

It's hot here - so I'm staying inside catching up on snippets of writings. We are close to a record high temperature day here in Iowa. I wish it were the opposite - a record low temp day (without freezing any of our veggies and flowers). So here is an opposite poem from the exercise on Day 19 at NAPOWRIMO. I am writing after the end of the April deadline because these exercises are valuable to me. My poem is the opposite of Jane Kenyon's poem titled "A Boy Goes into the World" which you can read here: http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2003/05/23  This is one of those rare poems that mostly wrote itself after the first paragraph and does not follow Jane's original poem line for line; but lifts off in its own opposite direction.

Here's my opposite of Jane's beautiful poem:

A Girl Escapes into Her Room

My girlfriend rode home in a borrowed car,
back from a bleak winter morning. Her father
asked her home, beckoned her back
inside the well-lit hall:
"It's the same for your brother."

She stayed out in the winter air only two hours every morning.
She returned after skiing, and always a short skate on the pond.
Skating on the etched white ice atop the blackened water.
Dragging nothing home except
the wetness of the snow turned to water on her boots,
an umber twig knitted loosely into her mitten,
and a peaceful forehead that replaced
the once-furrowed grooves of a worried countenance.
Her face, so softened, hatched a design
within her mind - a fairy's lacewing.

The warmth of the house moved inside her
from exercising outside in silent crisp air;
she'd revitalized herself skating. Her muscles tired,
but strong, no longer weak.
Safe inside her room she lifted her snow-covered window,
and dropped her umber twig to the ground.
She let go. Let go from her hand her fairy wing,
and watched it fall into whiteness.