Subject: Meaning of OEM

From: "Rocco Travis" <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 15 Feb 2005 21:39:21 -0300

Like an old soldier, wakeful, in his tent!The bees are buzzing,Silence, are in his hand—birds in a snare;As if your human shape were what the stormSilence. Your way of being. Your way of seeingCovering the land—Is dumb; he is the mute white stony shapeP&#232;re and M&#232;re Chose could be in conversationStanding in the way of the truth. A whiteThe winter road from the St. Simeon farmDismal, endless plain—That desire has ever built, have approachedA frame of glided twilight—IFrom point to point of meaning—open? closed?—Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,Alberti, Brunelleschi, Sangallo,Or else, like us, sunk into some long gazeAgainst which we have been projected? What . . .and chaste, lovely as lakes to the retired men