DECEMBER 22

A stepping up, out balconies' snow,
pressed low to a belted sky darkened
by bright stars, and the warrior hallowed
form becoming and there, just- right
in a shared looking for Godhead;
in treed skyline, wary of disappearing
feet,

into snow; and should the whole dome
collapse, and the earth grow ravenous
in a clay feasting on the riverbank,
and bridges and men be oceaned
out,

this I will; towards terminal,
towards a deft everywhere bounding
peopled and upon roads cast out
crossing rivers, under them. Tired, ignorant
rivers.
Below and unsightly, take the tunnel now
and I will! for the belted sky above
is static with courage and folly, will yield
(so long as is told). Time enough.