The Wind and Whistle Operator

The wind swept through the bricks.
It swept up my stairs.
Beneath my closed door, it whispered its cold call.
Like an operator
An operator of wind and whistle
That scoot under my door and through my window.

It's cold outside
Cold enough to ice skate, no
The pumpkins look like giant crystallized candies.
The cow bucket had a sheet of frosty ice.
A Rain gage is no measure in times like these.

The sun sheepishly peaks through the clouds
On this bitterly cold morning.
Like a tardy student quietly coming into a classroom.
The sky is baby blue like freshly pulled taffy.
Straight from the candy creators.

The night wind sweeps its thanks through the trees.
Like a silently kept night vigil.