The North Wind Offered All

Awake all night again he stood
And stared up at the sky.
The north wind offered all its good
In a crow’s faint harsh cry.

His mind was filled with sticks of wood
And nine ways to tell a lie
So well it stacked as truth should
In stove lengths, high and dry.

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
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