a night of blusters
des vents à décorner les boeufs (if they weren’t angus and horn-less)
east facing windows covered in ice and snow
soffit ripped off the outbuildings
feeling the winds through the walls
worrying about the roofs
about the free range hens and calves
and the partner who still needs to feed a herd in the back 40.
and I remember with a good chuckle
my urban days, when I
talked about leaving the 9 to 5 behind.