The cold winds blew in St Peter
Minus ten degrees; deep snow
He trudged on and on (my then young father)
As the wind blew from the side
His ears were turning blue; freezing
But the urgency of his errand
Could not be denied...
He had to keep on going
Had to get his dad's medicine
Had to make it back in time...
His elder brother called out to him
Said quite urgently as he arrived
"No! You cannot come inside!"
He grabbed that icy snow
Two huge handfuls
Rubbed them over his tingling ears
To bring back that circulation
Before he would allow him
Into that glowing warmth inside...
Dad's older brother saved him from losing his ears
They would have melted and slipped from his head
Talks with my father
18th August 2018
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