The first occurrence of warm diplomacy
Of a presidentially concurrent ceremony of icy handshakes
Was the inauguration of Robert Frost's poetic recitation of a lukewarm reception, but, boisterous rationale
Among the black people, were some on the sidelines
And some white people were freed at last
By threat of a less-traversed path that brought them ostensible freedom
The positive outlook of a friendly face in the midst of this diverging wood
Made the travel worth the entry in my journal
So, did Robert Frost put fire to my soul
The medley of this luck is simply the fire to my icy rubber soles
That tread upon palliating poor relations and the force of nature wasn't inconsequential