Blue sky
cerulean calm...

unit, nine,
status, active...

Greens lawns close shorn
Low sun shining down...

Static falls like snow
Dead air radio crowds my ears...

In villages where bread was thin
And grief still clung to door and bone...

Evergreen altar
Pine and myrrh on winter air...

Oh the winds they rage and rancour
and the sky is cold and gray...

In winter’s hush, in darkness deep
A shadow snatched away his light...

There’s a fire at the door
And there’s decay in the streets...

A:
The wind’s begun its whispering...

On winter’s edge where shadows creep
When the naive lay fast asleep...

When the north wind blows
And you button up your coat...