When that cold winter comes
and the chilly wind does blow
best stay indoors
as it's freezing down below
but enquiring minds need to know
who ploughs the roads
so the snowplough man can drive to work
and plough the snow?
There was a possibility of snow.
I looked out on a chilly white scene,
reflecting that extremes of weather are
matched by extremes of political fronts.
The season hangs its head
under a burden.
Out for a walk with 'Duke', I ducked
under snow-laden branches,
but it was the beast of a snowplough
that threw it at me – down my neck.
Is other traffic struggling
to get to where?
This morning the world feels very different.
We are searching to find where we are
as a big Trump of the white stuff
is flung at us. On the way to the White House
an occluded front is forecast.
So what to put on?
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