Wind of the North! That shuddering blast has hung
on your crusty brow cursing as you scream;
bemoaning the fall of winter with your lungs,
blow your dogged breaths while they still sting,
your bite is less forbidding in the spring.
From in the April clouds the raindrops peek
no longer fearing your wild meanderings,
a gentler breeze has roused them to their feet
that bathes the open flowers and dries them while they sleep.
Wind Of The North, (Part 1) Fall Of Winter
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