Poem Cam-a-carzey

The weather had been a roller coaster.
The Quickening of the soul ripening the chest.
The day had begun to the circle on the inside and spring on the out.

The cold air pinched the extremities and sounded out the breathing.
Bullets of hail had hit the trees in an ambush.
They waved branches and wailed in agony.
The cold penetrating deeply into the wood.