Winter has its depths, its benthic cold — or what we imagine to be cold after the manner of the unlit deep, which is really quite steady temperature-wise. What’s cold is the wind coming over the mountain. You’ve been there. Here’s Doug Bolling’s lonsdalite poem “Measurings“:
This poem originally appeared in SC 3.1. Purchase a copy or download from our store. If you remember, subscribe. Read on!

![Doug Bolling - Measurings[sample]](https://stormcellar.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/doug-bolling-measuringssample.png?w=700&h=1081)
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