OEM?

V. The Dutch in the Arctic
The bees are buzzing,
Rain. We are forced to fly,
Across the heavens' gray.
With my foot the supple ball, for perhaps
In a single floral stroke,
I. Arctic Scenery
Appear to lift up from the lake;
At San Biagio, in the most intense room
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?
Beyond ice floe and berg and ice-bound sea,
Dismal, endless plain—
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?
Partly stone, partly the absence of stone,
Down the road, at Cypress Gardens, a woman
That neither the motionless farm couple trudging
The high whites spread over the buried earth.
To pick up even the quickening of wind
Escapees from the cold work of living,