two grand old foes,
cold war never too behind,
make a few moves deft
on the board checkered
gray, shrewd and shrouded
to castle a pawn
the world watches mute
oh! what an endgame
one man who blew
the whistle, sans regret
banished, stranded
and now hounded
talks to himself,
“Snow, found a Den yet?”
“Den, no. It’s Snowing
I’m lost of moves”
EVENTuALLY 