Frozen shoelaces flap around with each step Smoky tendrils of fog escape the twitching lips Snowmen standing by the sidewalks greeting Passersby with outstretched wooden fingertips

I Wish I Was Back Home Amergin

He sits before the fireplace, gazing At the ice forming on the window panes Huddled in his coat and blanket Seeing the snow on the gravel lane "Your dad's doing his best for us The bills are too high, the wages too low" He shivers and watches kids outside Playing in the subzero snow

Donning the Red Amergin