A found poem by and for gnu:

Gnu Snow

Not long in, me, from the Northeast
Cold wet winds of the North Atlantic
Swirling, mixing, depositing wet snow on my nape,

And then stalling in combo with westerlies
From Lower Canada,
Southerlies from the US Seaboard

Such that ne'er a strip o' wind exists
And all is silent, yet making exposed skin
And clothed joints ache.

A young man would revel in such weather.
Tis a night to be in the DEEP woods
To feel FRESH and ALIVE!...

To have ale and venture forth in squinting darkness
To explore what is and where it is at night on such a night.
Been there, done that. I choose the warmth herein.