……………………….
The snow came. It piled
to the swing-top on the porch:
muscle and shovel
Some are snow-happy
at this precipitation
at each bank, the drifts
—blowing with my Troy
it is inexplicable:
my cold feet, their joy
I would sooner sweat,
sun afire, ground brown
not so still, so cold
Jim Culleny
Jan. 27, 2011
Blink 