BLOWS THE NORTH WIND
From off North Sea, a night wind cold,
reminding me of growing old,
each joint in pain, each pain held dear,
lest in the end, I die from here,
but die we must, or so I'm told.
Out of the coming of the dawn,
tomorrow's hope, life's going on,
my hope for sunlight, soft and warm,
to rid me...
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