Bjorn’s poem reminds me of how ungrateful I can be when it comes to the weather. When it’s cold I wish for summer, and once summer arrives, I’m complaining about the heat.
Icicle-bearded,
wearing worsted wooland
well-laced boots
old man winter
came at last to visit,
frosting trees and painting
rosy cheeks on children
(and …
Finish reading here: Old man winter
