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The Nights Draw In (Ode) by Nicholas Jones
Now that the season is almost upon us
I sing a hymn of praise to the paraphernalia of winter
The woollen thinsulate gloves
and my University of St. Andrews scarf
The thick Welsh quilted blanket
that came from my grandmother's house after she died
Gortex boots that will keep even Gower rain
away from my delicate toes
Waterproof trousers that are perfect for
explorations into the hinterland
The fleece-like hat I bought in Scotland
because ten per cent of body heat is lost through the head
The thermal socks meant for a hiking weekend
that got cancelled and never happened
The umbrella left by my old flatmate
who couldn't be bothered carrying it home to Germany
The jumpers I have acquired over the years
from many places; my favourite is green and made of cotton
The waterproof jacket from Buxton market
that cost a tenner and says
'London Borough of Redbridge Car Park Attendant'
As I rediscover these things in anticipation of the cold
It is impossible not to give thanks of some kind
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