And on T.V., this snow-bound, wintry morning,
The talking heads themselves are plowing through
Huge drifts of words, and give repeated warning
Of what just one glance out the window proves,
"It's snowing!" hard, with clear intent to rout
Or stall, at least, all human locomotion
And turn us to an hour of devotion
To the art and science of digging-out.