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IV. The Paths to CathayXX. To the PoleCentimeters—that the height of the canvasA rabbit carcass in its stiffened fur.Calling me to you with wild gesturingsshaded by live oaks and bottlebrush treesIn the sound of the snow. What the countlessWheel tracks entrench themselves in snow, yet paintedHow bittersweet it is, on winter's night,Across the heavens' gray.Floating on the sky.and chaste, lovely as lakes to the retired menIn the dread circle hemmed by glaciers,A rabbit carcass in its stiffened fur.Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-byeNo name, no meaning. Oh my friends,II. List of Franklin Search PartiesThinking of your abiding spirit bringsUnreadable from behind—they are well down










IV. The Paths to Cathay
XX. To the Pole
Centimeters—that the height of the canvas
A rabbit carcass in its stiffened fur.
Calling me to you with wild gesturings
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
In the sound of the snow. What the countless
Wheel tracks entrench themselves in snow, yet painted
How bittersweet it is, on winter's night,
Across the heavens' gray.
Floating on the sky.
and chaste, lovely as lakes to the retired men
In the dread circle hemmed by glaciers,
A rabbit carcass in its stiffened fur.
Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-bye
No name, no meaning. Oh my friends,
II. List of Franklin Search Parties
Thinking of your abiding spirit brings
Unreadable from behind—they are well down
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