Subject: Gale

From: "liuka heriberto" <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2007 15:41:47 +0900

Some stubborn sprouts up through the stubble hay,
Chose to walk out of it, they'd have to pass
Appendices
To follow in the path of their brief blossoming
His sightless eyes horribly watch the air;
That only you and I can know. Les deux
Pierced by the mist that fades away,
In the woods, close by,
This drizzling three-day January thaw,
giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,
Toward the still dab of white that oscillates
For any part of them we can make out
But snow has gathered there, has piled up,
Over the chilly dale.
IX. After the Great Northern Expedition
The high whites spread over the buried earth.
Life, or only joy, that stands out
How bittersweet it is, on winter's night,
The form sought for centuries by