[physik] to physik

[Mary Myles]

Rain. We are forced to fly,
Is the moon to growIn stone waves and rock waters, far from day,
—Now that you notice it—have just moved pastIn Winter Haven, the ballplayers are stretching
Only a fox whose den I cannot find.XI. Franklin's Last Voyage
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooledXX. To the Pole
Whiteness, those pediments that riseOr by the loud hand of painting, always puts.
At the white place of the road's vanishingPlace of absorbing snow, itself to be
Set on that tomb in the eternal night;Event, the end of the painted road ends up
Seems reflected in the infinite of the lamps.Dreaming time has reversed, I watch drowned snow
At the white place of the road's vanishingAs if your human shape were what the storm
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