There was frost on the windscreen again this evening;
an uncommon chill that tugged at the fingers, singing
some ominous melody, blown from the East, they said.
The forecast was not good, the cause already dead.
But you could wake up tomorrow and make a difference:
when the bars hold tight together, chaos follows; then
sweep away old systems, send a front across the country
and, come the next morning, we might, at hand, have some
mid-winter sunshine for once. There’s no such thing
as bad weather, they say, just poor choice of clothing.
Categorised in: Article
This post was written by Simon Cockle