Grim northern town is stirring the sun, too cold, won't rise past frigid trees and frozen lakes all lined by ice blue skies The cold, cold, ground lies silent for there is no comfort under snow that's hard and snaps with footsteps cursing engines that won't go Ice fog hangs low on dwellings smoke eeks up then shivers down along the barren streetscapes where dark creatures can be found cold haunts their doors and windows for the heat that hides inside for any spark of warmth that lives with no fire - no life would thrive That hardy life in coats and boots which peeks from touques and smiles with wooden gestured stiffened breath and dreams of southern climes
