Winter Traveling

As youngsters, you and I
were archaeologists,
explorers, discoverers
of treasures in guise
of corn husks, shale,
an old piece of toy.
My brave big sister,
you have been
to Mexico, Nepal,
Uganda, even
dense places
of your own heart,
and you are still seeking
and finding and seeking.
I see you off,
this sleety afternoon,
with what I have
as precaution against
calamities of the storm:
empty coffee tin, matches
and the stub ends
of Advent candles.
If push comes to shove,
one flame makes
a lot of warmth
and light and melts
the snow to water.