The Advantage

Three haystacks stood against the wind,
as best they could, while frozen mist
whirled through the farmyard from the fields.
The world contracted like a fist

where we were sawing winter wood,
I stooped and beat my hands together
and pulled my cap down past my ears
behind the haystacks. Any weather

surpasses none, I try to share
the gruff impulse of out of doors
unsheltered, but I go inside
as soon as I have finished chores.