Whistle

Written in December '21

whistle echo amongst
the buildings, flurries
eat skin into charred
flesh, gangrene awaits

a blue flame neither
blue nor flame

within minutes,
limbs are lost if the
coverage is lacking,
absent like a father
going out for smokes

so goes the child
even if the father
was never absent

the wind cuts through
regardless of the fake
R-factor we call gear

the beast from cold hell is here
when the whistle sounds