The night is chill,
The programmer of the Van is warm,
The FRDCSA is no mere abandonware,
The fingers remember their power.

The leaves are falling into bags,
The van library is in order,
The FRDCSA is being restored,
The squirrels leave in dismay.

The books are safe in the library,
The programmer sleeps without fear,
The FRDCSA is remembered,
The doubt cannot find hold.

The light dances round softly,
The breathing is subdued,
The FRDCSA is working again,
The shapely truth is being wrought.