Click below to listen to the narration:
oh gather close...you winter folk...where the frost‑lined headlines sing...for canada sang a tangled tune...in the first cold days of winter...from the prairie city’s ruptured pipes came a cry through frozen air...as calgary watched its water fade...and its mayor spoke in prayer...two breaks in one relentless week...steel bones split through with strain...and shopfronts waited...lights still on...for the thirsty crowds again...far north where the jackpine leans...the pimicikamak fires burned low...as burst pipes froze in the midnight wind...and the power flickered slow...a month...they said...to mend the lines...where the cold bit deep and long...yet neighbours hauled the warmth around...like a quiet...steadfast song...out east the storms rolled off the sea...with a sailor’s iron will...snow squalls danced through nova scotia...and the ferries moored stood still...but in ottawa...a ribbon shone...the rideau canal’s first open mile...where skaters carved their hopeful arcs...in a brief...returning smile...and somewhere in a quieter room...a nation bowed its head...for annette dionne’s passing stirred the memory of what was said...how five small girls once captured hearts...in a world both bright and grim...and how the last of them slipped away...like a soft...unbroken hymn...so lift your eyes...you winter folk...to the stories stitched each day—for the land is wide...the news runs deep...and the ballad finds its way...