Escapees from the cold work of living,
Of too much truth to do much more than lie
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
Photographs of the then-laboratory
V. The Dutch in the Arctic

Oh, I know. The snow. The effective
That neither the motionless farm couple trudging
Deep in the fogquelches every ray,
One flash of eye, or one clarion-blast
XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest

Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
Seized from creation by noneternity,
Wind, sleet. The branches were sway,
How can they get to the point of a world
II. History of Acrid Land Grab

—Now that you notice it—has just moved past
Floating on the sky.
Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-bye
visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
IV. List of Lost Search Parties