the latitudes of freedom are not hard to measure --
though they can be difficult to achieve.
there are limited means, and a day --
dashed by uncooperative weather, the wind
outside raging like some mythical beast --
blowing the snow sideways, piling the drifts.
and so the day unfolds in the usual way,
and the night -- the foreseen sleep interrupted,
as it has been for years, and the road ahead --
while invisible still -- promises more of the same.