See the boy deep in the winter field, All zipped up in goose down, knee-deep in snow. The dead grasses stabbing through the surface Look like eyelashes, as if he’s standing Not in a field but in a field Of vision. He knows that he’s a poet, That, like the falling snow, it has fallen
Floaters
Floaters
Floaters
See the boy deep in the winter field, All zipped up in goose down, knee-deep in snow. The dead grasses stabbing through the surface Look like eyelashes, as if he’s standing Not in a field but in a field Of vision. He knows that he’s a poet, That, like the falling snow, it has fallen