Date: Sun Jan 7 04:27:52 2007
How bittersweet it is, on winter's night,Snow haze gleams like sand.Unreadable from behind—they are well downIX. After the Great Northern ExpeditionA matter of getting all that right . . .Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at lastToward something that the world is pointing towardThat only you and I can know. Les deuxAnd half-starved foxes shake and pawSought to contrive, intending to expressThey tear apart the mist, it is as though,III. Earliest Recorded Northern Explorers: The Greeks and the VikingsEvent, the end of the painted road ends upStunned in their voiceless way to be alivePallid waste where no radiant fathomers,But when, on the timepieces that we callNot so much of place as of renewed hope,Partly stone, partly the absence of stone,That only you and I can know. Les deux
