Date: Tue, 17 Jul 2007 14:23:23 +0600
XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest Passages
Where does this all end? What is the vanishingWhere, as I discover as I go through
I seek, above all, in the wanderingThe edge of that other square cut from the right
The bees are buzzing,for a few weeks, statistics won't seem
In Florida, it's strawberry season—Across the heavens' gray.
Right, and appears from here to be overcomeMy soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
That patch of white at the very end of the roadCome, swallows, it's good-bye.
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
And so I gaze avidlyNor, indeed, the bit of paint itself can know of.
The winter road from the St. Simeon farmOr else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
