O’ beleaguered child of snow
How dark and dreary your skyline glows,
Grey and black mixing the night
Pitch and jet are close to you
O’ disheartened river partially froze
Enough to be so close to sleep
Yet never able to close your eyes
Forced to watch as other waterways drift in dream
O’ Cantankerous bulletin wind
Scraping sidings from house and inn,
Whistling in announcing fashion
Alerting the public of your gusting glory
O’ thick skinned nature’s misfit
Mortal words uttering such violent betrayals
With verse so intense and thick
Your ears must be bloodied sick
O’ Great northern empire
The only place I’ve ever called home
Despite the savage winters and much too shallow summer
Your boundaries
