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Seen. What you know is only manifest
I might have happily lived some other childhood.
Whiteness, those pediments that rise
To pick up even the quickening of wind
It's snowing, it's returning to a town
In Winter Haven, the ballplayers are stretching
Winds blow sharp, what then?
Will sound, then the Lord's face will luminesce
People might see to be the opening
Chose to walk out of it, they'd have to pass
The winter road from the St. Simeon farm
More beautiful than anything in this world.
XVII. Greenland
Glimmering of light:
In Florida, it's strawberry season�
Escapees from the cold work of living,
Rain. We are forced to fly,
In the woods, close by,
The form sought for centuries by