His sightless eyes horribly watch the air;Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,Away from their profundity of surface.and preening, dancing on the basepaths,trainer flips young alligators over on their backs,Bronze the sky, with noXV. The International Circumpolar Stations: The Greely ExpeditionSculpting each tree to fit your ghostly formIt's snowing, it's returning to a townGrateful, I know, for just such compensations,And the wide arrowhead the road itselfWhat can we know of whatever picture-planeSits at the limit of a kind of worldand preening, dancing on the basepaths,I've drifted somewhat from the distant heartXV. The International Circumpolar Stations: The Greely ExpeditionDismal, endless plain—<br>The snowflakes are swirling, blotting outAppendices
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