A couple of weeks ago, on one of the most inclement and frigid days of the year, I threw out a question about how to read a phrase in a Philip Larkin poem about spring. I was in a hurry and asking about it was something of an afterthought. But I was genuinely curious what our sagacious readers made of the line. Several of you wrote, for which my sincere thanks and promise to write back soon.
Now Aaron Haspel, who excels at just this sort of exercise, has mostly graciously