It’s gone all cold, there’s sleet and even snow
Over the hills, walkers needing rescue;
So chilly I’ve shut my bedroom window
(Open normally all day, all night too).
When the full breath of winter falls on you,
Whether fell-walking or just town-dwelling,
The weather fills you up with coughs and flu,
Often flinging you off the edge, clinging,
Then dropping off the ledge, never stopping.
Just think what your thoughts would be, down below,
As snow drifts, and so does your stiff canoe
On black waters where no-one’s ferrying.
Maybe it’s terrifying, dying, though
It could also be like going home, too.
Thur 31 Jan 2008
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