Gun Grey Red Sail Goes the Winter Fast

The Norfolk punt sits on the Yare

as the snow storm vile

Billowing sail, red as the sunrise

In Guilin, where your mother sat

Knitting a shawl for your sister's wedding

as the snows pile

Merrivale Model Village

Beneath an avalanche fat

Stands the spire's gunmetal leading

The only karst formation round here

A boat going nowhere

Flattened aspect. Remember

no hills here, no sledding