as sky falls in the early evening, man finally retires to turtle houses, retracting into defensive position bundled, swaddled soft bodies across from frosted window and frozen concrete storms have ebbed and flowed warnings have come and gone and man cares no more the remaining night will end the end remains nigh sees this measly civilization for its falsehood sleet builds up around each house each snowflake a death knell of casual annihilation from inside structures of folly, warmth is gently relinquished from foggy souls with little wonder left the lights go out and man falls asleep the old sadness comes again the last blizzard ever seen as sky falls First published in Boston Poetry Magazine