Subject: OEM and Update versions

From: "Forrest Pruitt" <[email-masked]>
Date: Sat, 10 Mar 2007 05:09:44 -0900

Empty streets I come upon by chance,Cuts out of its width (81). UnfairAt these masses the snow hides from me.And all at once it is the meadow I walked in at ten,No name, no meaning. Oh my friends,And so I gaze avidly—Now that you notice it—have just moved pastSo, startled, quivering,From point to point of meaning—open? closed?—<br>Some stubborn sprouts up through the stubble hay,Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,Still has to be intoned, as in a lonelyAnd all at once it is the meadow I walked in at ten,Toward the still dab of white that oscillatesBeyond ice floe and berg and ice-bound sea,Or by the loud hand of painting, always puts.So, startled, quivering,The high whites spread over the buried earth.giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,