shovelling snow at midnight (a poem)

Quay Brothers films at the end of a long-ish day, together with the sound of one of the resident managers shovelling snow in the parking lot (yes, at midnight)… 

how to hold the firmament close   without scarring
            don’t seasons find     their way back           somehow?
the lion           beneath the logo      would like to rest now
scarcely has the snow accumulated on the pavement
                                    night is quiet under that blanket
how to hold the scarring close       without firmament
if the mentor would better demonstrate the method
            books might have more      to say about it
but the machine is all warmed up and the standard answers are pouring forth
                        queues will falter      as the wait stretches on
elements are the obvious feature we always overlook
            lingering thoughts   shatter the midnight quiet
close to the scarring without how  hold firmament
                        the literary soul        of Europe      tires from so much explaining
a number on cufflinks          I hear you on a card, poorly concealed
            books might have more      to say about it
but the standard is all warmed up and the machine answers are pouring forth
            I left the queue so     I have missed too much      now
the firmament to how         scarring without       close hold
            don’t seasons find     their way back           somehow?

(22 February 2018)