And off the white smoke swims Silence. Your way of being. Your way of seeingIs dumb; he is the mute white stony shape Coextensive with everything? How could they know?visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop So you can watch me watch uplifted snowOh you builders, But what I am looking at is hardened snow,Sphinx of questioning substance, or a sort XII. The Mystery of the Missing Ships: The Franklin SearchAgainst which we have been projected? What . . . and turn it into something cartoon-funny.Only a whiter absence to my mind, Nor, indeed, the bit of paint itself can know of.Snow haze gleams like sand
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
