People might see to be the opening
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
The paths of childhood.
Although December's frost killed the winter crop,
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
She stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeper
Glimmering of light:
Bronze the sky, with no
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
This third day of our January thaw,
I do not betray you, I still go forward,
I am sleeping, and dreaming, and wandering along
then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
they sit with their wives all day in the sun,
And so I gaze avidly
Like theirs ends? From what distant point of vision
Blurring the terrain,
Snow haze gleams like sand.
Summer bees were saying