September new year
a northeast wind pelts my cheek
with winter's sharp seeds.
After a long string of balmy days, a slap of winter. Sunday the southwest wind coasted over the flats like a breeze caressing the ocean; Monday her northeastern sister took over and brought currents of bone-chilling cold. A rain laced with dust from the potato harvest spattered the windows all day as the wind beat at the roof. By afternoon the sun returned, and the clouds lifted to reveal a thick cloak of snow along the spine of the Culebra.
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