Aug 282011

A soft possible snow had descended
And let the moon climb down from the sky.
The world lay in whiteness without witness or end.
Snow lay on the tree-limbs like ladder-rungs rounded
And softened my cold need for why.

Not a blank footstep, not a note of sound
Intruded on the marvelous sight.
All creatures, all creation slept like the ground,
As though no other dark did our dark surround.
A winter Eden and a winter night.

And then I thought: It is as if some other than
The snow had snowed down or in,
Coldly immune to storm or reason.
Each hour I held that thought held only harm.
I searched the moon-snow transfigured farm.

The fallen night I found, I found no ease in. 

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