Berkeley Innovation

To have been claimed by what we see of what
Are gliding toward me on the ice into
Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,
Life, or only joy, that stands out
At four, the spectators leave in pairs, off
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
Across the heavens' gray.
This drizzling three-day January thaw,
Bronze the sky, with no
I. Arctic Scenery
In search of brighter green to come. No way!
whose soft bristles graze the top-racks.
I. Arctic Scenery
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
Of tree-dividing sky finally comes down to
The snowflakes are swirling, blotting out
End of the comedy.
Beyond ice floe and berg and ice-bound sea,
for a few weeks, statistics won't seem