25º
Northwind air has come
Cruel in its icy chill
Bringing sharpness into my home
Abiding in its own weather-will.
The air too cold for skin
Brings winter in its true form
Artic weather more akin
To peaks of mountains forlorn.
We are on the flat sea sands
But winds travel from far
At the back of the north wind stands
Like a ray of light from a star.
