Allowing me to let your picture form and wake
then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
Appendices
And all at once it is the meadow I walked in at ten,
XIII. The Route to the North
wonders if she'd ever be brave enough
Yes. You'd want that said, (if you
To run, as in the time of the bee, seeking
The form sought for centuries by
Through the back of the picture at the patch of white
To listen, by the sputtering, smoking fire,
Glimmering of light:
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
And the worlds—skiffs rudderless, rolling on—
Bronze the sky, with no
This perfection, this absence.
Toward something that the world is pointing toward
At four, the spectators leave in pairs, off
Point, after all, when finally one reaches
then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
Appendices
And all at once it is the meadow I walked in at ten,
XIII. The Route to the North
wonders if she'd ever be brave enough
Yes. You'd want that said, (if you
To run, as in the time of the bee, seeking
The form sought for centuries by
Through the back of the picture at the patch of white
To listen, by the sputtering, smoking fire,
Glimmering of light:
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
And the worlds—skiffs rudderless, rolling on—
Bronze the sky, with no
This perfection, this absence.
Toward something that the world is pointing toward
At four, the spectators leave in pairs, off
Point, after all, when finally one reaches
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