Winter Winds (Old Man's Words) Poem by Ianaldo Prescott Pourchot

Coming out of the depression…
I had nowhere to go
My pa was a shoemaker
And his pa was an oil tycoon
I was nothin’ but a big weed!

I was nothin’ church girls could dower
I lacked the fragrance of a flower
But just before the springtime rain,
The beautiful winter wind came!
And blew me high in the sky!

I floated amongst the hoary birds
I flocked with the flourishing herds
Almost high enough to kiss angels
And now ‘m sitting here with you
Telling you the story of my life.

For every bleary morning—you are born
And every weary night—you die
You live life scraping dust off of grain
One day you breathe, the next you’re slain!
Just make it a good grain, live it

Treasure it