Linwood

snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,
Seen. What you know is only manifest
Not daring to oppose
In dense bare branches, or the ubiquitous
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
No name, no meaning. Oh my friends,
Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,
But snow has gathered there, has piled up,
Will sound, then the Lord's face will luminesce
Calling me to you with wild gesturings
Winds blow sharp, what then?
Swaying in unison beneath the snow,
XI. Franklin's Last Voyage
Floating on the sky.
The paths of childhood.
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
He never even dreams, being sheer snow;
From point to point of meaning�open? closed?�
at balls hit again and again toward her offspring.