Whistling,
whirling,
swirling.
As the first snow falls to the ground,
it leaves us housebound.
The whistling silence that lives outside,
from this I must hide.
As the fires breath gives us heat,
this is where we meet,
brought together through simple circumstance,
I look out as the snowflakes dance.
Whistling,
whirling,
swirling.
Clang!
goes the unhinged doors,
the storms hunger begs for more.
Crash!
goes the broken branches,
for a second our blood flow stanches.
Whistling,
whirling,
swirling.
The eyes of the fire jump out,
for more firewood it shouts,
this beast we must keep at bay,
it's the only way to make the warmth stay.
The hunger that is outside, and that that is in,
one so cold, the other burns the skin.
From these to poisons we must choose,
oh this winter we are paying our dues.
I think of spring and all it promises,
but all I can hear is,
whistling,
whirling,
swirling,
whistling,
whirling,
swirling,
whistling,
whirling,
swirling.
My first real attempt at a rhyme scheme.