Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
So, startled, quivering,
Where, as I discover as I go through
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,
And half-starved foxes shake and paw
He terrifies the Vast, he seems so wild;
The winter road from the St. Simeon farm
The surge of swirling wind defines
Astonished that you have returned to go
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
And he is swathed in ever-petrified dread;
Merely a mockery of spring
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously