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The Chill Wind
It's 5 O'Clock on a December morn
From out of the east the wind is borne
Dropping temperatures by 20 degrees
Bundle up or you will freeze
To some the cold's a thrill
Strapping on skis to race downhill
Myself, I'd rather be warm
Stay inside to weather the storm
Down streets and alleys it blows
The chill wind which never slows
Picking up debris along it's way
To leave blocks or miles away
But to work I have to go
Clad in layers from head to toe
Walk to the subway in this gale
Watching leaves and paper taking sail
Undergound, the wind's abated
But this line is an elevated
At stops the doors open wide
And the chill wind rushes inside
Back on the street, with my head bowed
'Damn it's cold' I say out loud
Wishing that I was thicker skinned
The better to stand this chill wind
poem
by
Harry J. Couchon Jr
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