So you can watch me watch uplifted snow
And I would like—Now that you notice it—have just moved past
Is the moon to growThat desire has ever built, have approached
In dense bare branches, or the ubiquitousAs if your absence now concluded long 
ago.
Of a far barn, just where the road curves sharplyOnly a whiter absence to my 
mind,
to restaurants for Early Bird Specials.High on this surface, guarding the edge 
of Père
And still my mind goes groping in the mud to bringand turn it into something 
cartoon-funny.
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,Its consciousness of my white 
consciousness,
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooledOver the chilly dale.
Unreadable from behind—they are well downBy what it seems to have moved toward. 
In any


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