January 28, 2019

The snow keeps falling,

Records for cold soon following,

The students may be frolicking,

But all goals and outcomes are fallowing.

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New building's halls vacated,

Probably best given how they're ventilated.

My opinion of what to do vacillated,

Centuries-old premise violated.

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The junction of high and college is vexing.

Out-of-towners find it so fetching,

But the roads merge from opposite forking,

My patrolman's torch barely flickering.

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Daughters and sons will commute,

Or not if the buses will not commence,

Meaning that staying open will not compute,

We must decide if and when we will commerce.

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Uncle Sam hands out the bill,

Father Time laments the drill,

Mother Nature flexes her will.

The results are expected still.