The International Circumpolar Stations: The Greely Expedition

Here's another spam poem. Here's hoping I always get junk mail, and that these word generators never become more coherent...

From which, thanks to symmetry,
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
Trampled snow is the only rose.
In the woods, close by,
into early blooming. Then, the inevitable blizzard
To listen, by the sputtering, smoking fire,
With its lament, it often sounds, instead,
At these masses the snow hides from me.
It is as though I were at a second threshold.
Close at the end of distance the two Chose
Billows the fog, cloaks
I bring down a bit of its light
and turn it into something cartoon-funny.
into early blooming. Then, the inevitable blizzard
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,
XV. The International Circumpolar Stations: The Greely Expedition
Toward the still dab of white that oscillates
snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,