Try a Cave to Disavow the Theorists.

[mfwilkie]

The blinds are cracked for light.

New snow might cover old habits,
but ordered-life is shoveled by social
committees with the power to re-shape

the nuances of every single flake.
Man’s rapport with change becomes
a watered-down tango. The question:

if no man can truly be an island unto
to himself, can we trust the sagacity
of poets when they predict the weather?

[David Nelson Bradsher]

Wow, Mags. There's much to this one.