Discovery

the cairns of dog shit Amundsen emplaced
led Robert Falcon Scott to the South Pole
it seems--in retrospect--an epic waste
to come in second at that Austral goal.
But tragedy, for Scott, lay still ahead
for want of for want of biscuits, mutton, or white rice
before they got to camp, his team was dead
entombed forever on the windswept ice.
That Scott was brilliant, all his team attest
a testament to Britain, and to class
it baffled them, that he'd be second-best
or that Norwegians thought him such an ass.
Experience counts more, and breeding, less
to map the void without a GPS

civic burden

the rhythmic rasp of shovels on concrete
responds to snow new-fallen in the night
the neighborhood converges in the street
this job can't wait until it's fully light
debates abound as to the perfect tool
but steel or plastic, backs bend to the work
the children need a path to walk to school
the common task that no one gets to shirk
as Norman Rockwell  might depict the scene
if he explored a work in monochrome
the trees are bare, snow cloaks the evergreen
the streetlamps barely reach the nearest home
'til spade-work yields to electricity
ennobling labor builds community

Fall

the creeping Dark trims daylight at both ends
each sunset hastens and each daybreak lags
the radiation on which life depends
diminishes as harvest season drags
the change is swiftest at the equinox
between the solstices, more and more night
fair-weather sailboats hauled out in drydocks
acutely conscious of the waning light
new freshmen navigating the old school 
undreaming how much it is they don't know
but sure their generation defines "cool"
seem woefully unready for first snow
the leaves are fading, falling from the trees
as thoughts are turning to rewaxing skis

so green

a parody of youth and vulgar wealth
all flagrant ego, too cool for ski-school
without regard for courtesy or health
he'll let the geriatrics mind the rules
the sickest gear from all the swankest brands
to wow the ladies at the ski-lodge bar
an adolescent puppet of his glands
who sneered at limits 'til he pushed too far
the monochrome of Winter yields to Spring
a swatch of scarlet stark among the pines
as flesh sloughs off, synthetic fabrics cling
a skier who ignored the 'boundary' signs
a boon of nitrogen elates the trees
a dilettante who thought he really skis