Monday, February 16, 2009

On the way back from Major General Maple


When All the World is Full of Snow

I never know
Just where to go,
When all the world
Is full of snow.

I do not want
To make a track,
Not even
To the shed and back.

I only want
to watch and wait,
While snow moths settle
On the gate,

And swarming frost flakes
Fill the trees
With billions
Of albino bees.

I only want
Myself to be
As silent as
A winter tree,

To hear the swirling
Stillness grow,
When all the world
Is full of snow.

-- N. M. Bodecker

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