8 February 2010 § Leave a comment
people drive polemically
as snow harangues endemically
and excellence is creditably
knocking on the door.
to struggle academically
can’t be too horrendously
forlorn for all the endlessly
describing we want more.
the whiting quiet slow descending
the lie of song with notes in time
for places to go are not few.
brighting in soft perhaps not to end
and roaming in gloaming, the smallest of motes
reminds us that stillness is rest.
piling upon the face of earth
is how interface loves
in the races of time and snow angels