Ode to Winter

If you should ever know me again, and

In gentler climates stoop to ask me then

Which season is most inequitable

And why it is that you can never trust

I will indulge, shut your eyes, close your noise

For they decieve in other worlds than this

Where familiar voices speak in strange tounges

And whisper cruelties that tear through the sun

Know this; that Winter is more friend than foe

And that only from death, can life be known