Here’s the latest communique from our Irish correspondent Berna over in County Kildare— The current chill in Irish affairs seems to be extending to the weather:
Speaking of cold…….Here’s something about cold that I love, by Dylan Thomas:
“It’s almost too cold
to hold a pen this morning.
I’ve lost a toe since breakfast,
my nose is on its last nostril.
I’ve four sweaters on (including yours),
two pairs of trousers & socks,
a leather coat & a dressing gown.
Who was the French poet who had
alphabetically lettered underpants, and wore
every one up to H on a cold morning?”
I often think of this when I get out of my warm bed on cold mornings
before the heat kicks in. I have a really disreputable padded brown
overcoat that I wear on these cold mornings and think of Dylan Thomas.
The Welshman Himself
Touch2Touch 
Yes. He did not go gentle into that cold morning, but was heated from within by manic Pan and all his haunted minions — his inner fire was enough to charge his batteries for 39 mankind making, bird beast and flower fathering years — he warms us on mornings cold by Celsius, politically and most meaninglessly economic.
LikeLike
Well, he was heated from within by alcohol as well as Pan —- And defiance, I think.
LikeLike