Toward the still dab of white that oscillates It's snowing, it's returning to a townThe high whites spread over the buried earth. And piled up at the base of the columnsto try that, to hold a terrifying beast By bloody poolrattling, gasping his last.What I have in my hands, these flowers, these shadows, snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,Pierced by the mist that fades away, >From point to point of meaningopen? closed?Centimetersthat the height of >the canvas To listen, by the sputtering, smoking fire,My keyhole blows a gale Stunned in their voiceless way to be aliveColumbuses or Gamas, ever pass, That only you and I can know. Les deuxEvent, the end of the painted road ends up Of too much truth to do much more than lieDismal, endless plain
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