Squall Coming

A cloud of snow driven by cold winds
is eating the northern hills. Already
the first flakes hurl themselves
like tiny darts into my face. I squint
my eyes and feel the icy sparks
against my cheeks. How winter!
Somewhere, in secret places
that I cannot see, birds are taking
shelter, wild animals are curled
into their fur. Such harshness!
And yet we survive. How amazing!
Such adaptability. Such a marvel.
So Yes.

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