Her frozen earth of steely stone.
Even in the sun’s brief glow
Its sharp fangs penetrate the bone.
Bitter wind sweeps every corner
Of her tiny village square,
Sweeping from vast northern tundra
Spreads its pinpricks everywhere.
Bundled well in scarf and parka
Venture out into her fray,
Blinded white with falling snowflakes
Stop to watch her children play.
Snuggled now beside the fireplace,
Scalding cocoa warms inside.
Let the chill enjoy her conquest.
We have nothing left to hide.
And we huddle at her leisure
Watching as the days grow long,
Bound to leap with hope and joy
As February sings her song.
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