The Polar Vortex

[Wilyem Clark]

Everything needs a snappy name,
Including this buss of authentic winter
In which pipes freeze and baby buds shrivel,
Birds huddle, eyes dribble sleety tears,
Ears go numb and toe-tips tingle.
No wise man leaves his cozy bed
To face such a potent enemy.

"You call this cold? This ain't no cold.
We have real cold in Saskatoon.
This cold is coolish, nothing more.
Strap on your skates. Don't own a pair?
Well, rent 'em!"

The wind's composed of biting gnats
The size of kidney beans.
With toothy jaws they pummel strips
Of tender, sensitive, unclad flesh;
They chew and harrow, slice into cheeks
And lacerate the ankles.
There is no pesticidal spray
That daunts them; best to stay inside
And warm your hands by an oven door.

Oh, look—here comes a shrill nor'easter!

[YesNo]

A "polar vortex" seems ominously appropriate for the cold weather we have been enjoying. I like the sound of the lines in your poem.

[tailor STATELY]

Well done. Good to see you have a sense of humor while snowmegadon is stalking you.

Wet in the west,

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY