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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415977" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Winter Westerlies</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415977" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Leaning against the wind across the paddock ways<br>comes Dan home with forward stoop like a man bent and old,<br>clashes the door in haste as one pursued: 'By Christ, it's cold!'<br>and crooks his fingers to the blaze.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415977" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">We do not live these days, but each exhausting day<br>unnerved we numbly wait return of life, and must abide<br>the wind, the still beleaguering wind; all voices else outside<br>imperioulsy it has blown away.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415977" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Over the bronze-brown paddocks the grass is bowed flat down;<br>along the birdless creek a cold malevolence has passed;<br>a forlorn sparrow clings on the fence against the icy blast,<br>his soft breast feathers loosely blown.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415977" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">We watch the saplings buffeted without repose,<br>their foliage all on one side, plunging without rest,<br>stems leaning all one way from the assailing west,<br>bending as backs cower from blows.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415977" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The hunched cattle no longer feeding dejected stand<br>with dumb endurance, tails to the flogging wind hour after hour;<br>from some far frozen hell of winds a blind and souless power<br>invades and harries all the land.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415977" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The Wind! The Wind! It fumbles at the fastened panes,<br>fills, and posseses all, a tyranny without control;<br>ceaseless, changeless, malign, searching into the very soul,<br>the rushing desolation reigns.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=James+Martin+Devaney">James Martin Devaney</a></strong></div>

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