Friday Morning Tanka

Gray Skies, Still 33 Degrees after Sixty Hours

Raven cries gorawk.
In Nepal that’s the word for
Raven, I read once.
The snow that fell is rock salt
Graupel. Graupel and gorawk.


Quote of the Morning:
“Boy, that float on the left side isn’t working. I don’t know if it’s the rod that’s sticking or if the float isn’t floating. I’ve got to get in there but I obviously can’t. I hope the other one doesn’t start doing that.”

(Chief of Operations obviously can’t get in there because the day’s sap run has commenced in force.)





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