There is an old rule handed down through generations.
A rule unquestioningly obeyed by those who fear the wrath of fashion mavens.
Never wear white after Labor Day.
But, no one told the clouds
or the frozen streams of January.
No one told the snowflakes
or the hay bales, lonely and forgotten in the field
No one told the roads
or the trees
Which leads me to believe...
that perhaps there are some rules...
some silly, man made rules...
that are made to be broken...
At least by God.