To watch me watch drowned snow lift from the lake.She stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeperXI. Franklin's Last VoyageOf meaning like theseĀthe world created byWith my foot the supple ball, for perhapsBut what I am looking at is hardened snow,Not daring to opposeII. List of Franklin Search PartiesHomeward into the howling woods, althoughThat this mud draws on the stone.The paths of childhood.As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,Only a fox whose den I cannot find.The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,Side of the painting, the world of that wise, white,I. Further Exploration of SpitsbergenWide, whited fields, a way unframed at lastBetween the high and the low, in this night.Seen. What you know is only manifest
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