Snow wind-whipt to ice
Under a hard sun
Steam-runnels curdled hoar
Crackle, cannot run.
Robin stark dead on twig,
Song stiffened in it:
Fluffed feathers may not warm
Bone-thin linnet.
Big-eyed rabbit, lost
Scrabbles the snow,
Searching for long-dead grass
With frost-bit toe
Mad-tired on the road
Old Kelly goes:
Through crooktfingers snuffs the air
Knife-cold in his nose
Hunger-weak, snow-dazled,
Old Thomas Kelly
Thrusts his bit hands, for warmth,
'Twixt waiscoat and belly.
HOPE ALL HAVING GOOD TIME
REMEMBER NO BORDERS ARE NECESSARRY
FIGHT THE CUTS
HEDDWCH/PEACE
and if you can
keep on dancing, keep fires burning, faith and strength.
Nadoliglawen.
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