Now tis the ninth day of March, and it’s colder than death,
A chill algor mortis pervades, a wicked north wind whips, bare flesh evades.
This unseasonal warped weather hit its rawest vein today.
I watch la dolce vita slip away in a cloud of frozen breath,
Swaddled in a welter of clothes, in case furtive cold slips inside and invades.
Unleashed climate change chaos voraciously nibbles away.
As C02 murders the planet like a sinister act from MacBeth,
Extreme snow, rain, and droughts, payback for fossil-fired industry grenades.
Greed assisted living world suicide has led us humans astray.
A. McTiernan
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