From the poem "First Snow" by Mary Oliver (yes I know we're way past that)
The snow
began here,
this morning and all day
continued, its white
rhetoric everywhere
calling us back to why, how,
whence such beauty and what
the meaning; such
an oracular fever! flowing
past windows, an energy ti seemed
would never ebb, never settle.....
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I prefer the free form of Mary Oliver's poetry...but I can just imagine your friend Tom reciting to you from memory, the measured and delightful winter poem.
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