Burnin’ Sun Well, the frostbitten air pressed low near the earth While the turbulent skies kept whipping icy wind Against the flesh of my face Pinching a pen with finger joints frozen in place Ink, sputtering like a defective mower riding back And forth across the page Hesitation gives way to solitude as the Spirit of the moment Seeps in, seeps in Raising my eyes above the paper, The burnin’ sun Streams The late 1970s saw some of the coldest winters ever recorded in the Midwest. The Ohio River itself froze deep enough to walk across from Cincinnati to Kentucky. We had days and weeks of bone-chilling temperatures, often below zero without counting the wind chill . Due to so many days of called-off school , we had free time to adjust ourselves to the freezing cold through sled riding, ice skating and generally running up and down the frozen world . When I was not hanging out with the brothers, I kept with up with my habit ...