Subject: Mavis

From: "Ginger Barron" <[email-masked]>
Date: Fri, 1 Jun 2007 01:08:31 +0500

Figures of light and dark, these two are walkingA matter of getting all that right . . .demonstrating their talent for comedy—strokeOnly whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at lastCuts out of its width (81). UnfairSnaps of ice cracking in the hidden air.Away, my songs, must we goIn dense bare branches, or the ubiquitousEmpty streets I come upon by chance,That neither the motionless farm couple trudgingThe winter road from the St. Simeon farmOr else, like us, sunk into some long gazeAnd melt the spirit; his mouth will distendBut when, on the timepieces that we callthen takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.Of observation lying on the groundCascading snowflakes settle in the pines,In the dread circle hemmed by glaciers,