II. List of Franklin Search Parties
Sculpting each tree to fit your ghostly form
The weight of being born into exile is lifted.
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
Glimmering of light:
Escapees from the cold work of living,
They move against, or through, or by, or toward.
In realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasse
The paths of childhood.
Not so much of place as of renewed hope,
To listen, by the sputtering, smoking fire,
When Arctic winds crack down from Canada
Where, as I discover as I go through
And half-starved foxes shake and paw
As if your human shape were what the storm
Is the moon to grow
I've drifted somewhat from the distant heart
What? What can you do?
What is there in the depths of these walls
Spammer: Vincent Barron email@example.com