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Poem

and oh how i knew it
that winters days would come
the cold, the snow, the bitter sting
the bite that suffering freezing brings
the numbness of fingers and joints
the deep snow and freezing rain
the spinning of wheels and fish tails on black ice
disappointments with the way the buses are run
a number of days without the sun

the wind blowing snow drifts on the road
uninsullated shoes and freezing toes
cold metal holding winters personal touch
and the threat of gas being cut
the search for a place to find
welcome and warmth
the primitive skills to find shelter 
from the storm
the mission is to live 
and find a way to go on
to keep and find the substance warmth

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