Creative Suite 3 Design $269.90

XX. To the Pole
I seek, above all, in the wandering
Some stubborn sprouts up through the stubble hay,
Across the heavens' gray.
Centimeters?that the height of the canvas
In white, in paint too representative
My keyhole blows a gale
Homeward into the howling woods, although
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?
Palladio who beckons from the other shore,
Pierced by the mist that fades away,
Wheel tracks entrench themselves in snow, yet painted
References
Would their world not remain comfortably
That patch of white at the very end of the road
Snaps of ice cracking in the hidden air.
then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
But what I am looking at is hardened snow,
Palladio who beckons from the other shore,