Subject: Eddie

From: "micheline merline" <[email-masked]>
Date: Thu, 5 Apr 2007 07:17:54 +0200

So you can watch me watch uplifted snow
Like some poor wounded wretch-long left for dead
Astonished that you have returned to go
And still my mind goes groping in the mud to bring
Life, or only joy, that stands out
Along the walls are only empty niches,
I seek, above all, in the wandering
But snow has gathered there, has piled up,
Scrawny wolves, and you,
In Florida, it's strawberry season-
That this mud draws on the stone.
The snowflakes are swirling, blotting out
The pain of being born into matter.
Of the matter of snow here. Both of us have grasped
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent-
Partly stone, partly the absence of stone,
XVII. Greenland
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
The mortal architect had brought to life,