gloin

budna gloin GX02 vak
to one who was awake
and using the full supply of life.
Outside,
in a glimmering night,
I saw the black.


unresolved longing

amorphous hills
shoot by unweariedly
into our wake.
They that long for morning
that they have never longed for


of a far barn

Of a far barn, just where the road curves sharply
And piled up at the base of the columns
and the numbed yards will go back undercover.
Where, as I discover as I go through
Partly stone, partly the absence of stone,
In the woods, close by,
Snaps of ice cracking in the hidden air.
Amid the gloom, there, on the pole, stands black
Hoarfrost is in his bones and on his head,
People might see to be the opening
and preening, dancing on the basepaths,
The bees are buzzing,
Where does this all end?
What is the vanishing
Toward something that the world
is pointing toward
Along the walls are only empty niches,
Appendices XV.
The International Circumpolar Stations:
The Greely Expedition


snow

A white Rain.
We are forced to fly,
Like theirs ends?
From what distant point of vision
Beneath the snowflakes I notice façades
Of the matter of snow here.
Both of us have grasped
I draw near to one of them, the lowest,
They move against,
or through,
or by,
or toward.
That open before me? What I see
Stunned in their voiceless way
to be alive