The Winter Of Ought Fifteen

She was nasty cold.

Tougher than tough.

And the wind blew ice

Through the daze so rough,

That enough was enough.

They had had it alright.

Wandered into that night,

Lamp shadowed outasight.

They weren’t alright on

This cold, killer night.

They were so outasight that

They felt their way along

Some breaking into song

That didn’t last long.

For come the mornin’ they were gone

Into the vast beyond

Of the winter of ought fifteen.

Thank you, friend.

Barry out.

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