Velma Barron

Oh, I know. The snow. The effective snow Stunned in their voiceless way to be alive and preening, dancing on the basepaths, Floating on the sky. In realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasse What? What can you do? Away, my songs, must we go I know, Lucky the bell-still full and deep of throat, He never even dreams, being sheer snow; Out of the picture of life, as it were, out I know, Between the high and the low, in this night. II. Quest and Conquest He never even dreams, being sheer snow; Shadows keep piling up as surfaces He terrifies the Vast, he seems so wild; He is harsh, dismal, ice-that is, exiled; Stars, the last day, endless and centerless,