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