In white, in paint too representative
To watch me watch drowned snow lift from the lake.
He is harsh, dismal, ice�that is, exiled;
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
V. The Dutch in the Arctic
And the wide arrowhead the road itself
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
XIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort Sea
Dim, and die tonight?
I seek, above all, in the wandering
Comes up with as a means to its own end.
to matter, for the flushed boys are muscular
XX. To the Pole
whose soft bristles graze the top-racks.
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
Dreaming time has reversed�and you,
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
Wheezing ravens, when
To pick up even the quickening of wind
To watch me watch drowned snow lift from the lake.
He is harsh, dismal, ice�that is, exiled;
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
V. The Dutch in the Arctic
And the wide arrowhead the road itself
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
XIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort Sea
Dim, and die tonight?
I seek, above all, in the wandering
Comes up with as a means to its own end.
to matter, for the flushed boys are muscular
XX. To the Pole
whose soft bristles graze the top-racks.
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
Dreaming time has reversed�and you,
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
Wheezing ravens, when
To pick up even the quickening of wind
