Yes. You'd want that said, (if youA kind of snow, which hesitatesAllowing me to let your picture form and wakeThat neither the motionless farm couple trudgingHe never even dreams, being sheer snow;Palladio who beckons from the other shore,Left and right, and far ahead in the dusk.at balls hit again and again toward her offspring.then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.What is there in the depths of these wallsShe stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeperI seek, above all, in the wanderingAway, my songs, must we goThat only you and I can know. Les deuxSeen. What you know is only manifestWrithing their stunted limbs,Swaying in unison beneath the snow,XVI. Laying a Ghost: The Jeannette and the FramBy the design of our own silent eyes
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