trainer flips young alligators over on their backs,
Homeward into the howling woods, although
Cuts out of its width (81). Unfair
I seek, above all, in the wandering
This gap in time, this season not their own,
The flakes which have stolen onto the flagstones
Winds blow sharp, what then?
He never even dreams, being sheer snow;
Not daring to oppose
visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
I. Arctic Scenery
In white, in paint too representative
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
The snowflakes are swirling, blotting out
the old men burnish stories of Yaz and the Babe
One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;
As it sits there like an eventual
Snow haze gleams like sand.
The road, but not far enough ahead
Homeward into the howling woods, although
Cuts out of its width (81). Unfair
I seek, above all, in the wandering
This gap in time, this season not their own,
The flakes which have stolen onto the flagstones
Winds blow sharp, what then?
He never even dreams, being sheer snow;
Not daring to oppose
visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
I. Arctic Scenery
In white, in paint too representative
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
The snowflakes are swirling, blotting out
the old men burnish stories of Yaz and the Babe
One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;
As it sits there like an eventual
Snow haze gleams like sand.
The road, but not far enough ahead
