1-8 Son Day

All is frozen outside. Thank God we are warm and fed. I let a faucet slowly drip last night, as that is to prevent pipes freezing. Looks like clergy will have the day off. I still may do the vespers service at the old folks home tonight.

 

The Plunge

 

From the Yukon, cold swatches came

And through the South it raged,

Glazing houses in icy frame.

 

Peering out an icicle cage

A frost giant blew sleet

And shivering war he waged.

 

Cold prickled through socks to feet.

We crunched on frozen grass—

The horizon a white sheet.

 

A ditch deep as a crevasse

Beckoned us to draw near,

As branches shattered like glass.

 

We trudged to an ocean pier,

Looked down at the frothy mass

And felt our lives disappear.

 

 

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