The cold howled and whistled
A signal of the biting cold outside
He tried to keep warm indoors
The woodpile by the fire was almost depleted
The wind howled and whistled
Deep snow lay on the ground
Daylight hardly dared to show
Cold nights clung desperately to dimly lit mornings
He pulled on his boots and coat
Picked up the empty basket
Headed outside to the woodshed
The ice cold wind instantly biting his face
He had to shovel a path from the front door to the woodpile
Creating a deep channel in the snow
The icy wind stung him like a swarm of angry bees
His hands were numb as he filled the basket with logs
Once back inside he fed the fire
He was drenched in sweat from his labors
He quickly changed into dry clothes
Steam rose from his wet clothes hanging by the fire
The cold wind howled and whistled louder
I will get you next time it was saying
Not if I can help it he answered
The damp wood crackled in the fireplace
He counted his provisions
Dividing them into small daily rations
He had enough food for a month or so
Hoping the winter siege would end by then
The wind howled and whistled louder
I will starve you out it said
Not if I can help it he answered
The wind howled back in anger
A few weeks later the wind died down
He was able to venture out and chop more wood
The snow started to thaw
He had survived the worst of the weather
It was going to be a memorable spring and summer
Until next time whispered the wind
Not if I can help it he laughed