VERSE
Scheele, Roy
ROY SCHEELE THE CLOUDS CLOSE OVER Under a spit of snow the fields are lying low. The path behind a barn fills as if never worn, heading out to the fields whenever the wind yields and the way...
...Here all that was far draws near, yet nothing's gathered in out of the scouring din but an idea of shape, a kind of contour map in which the frozen pond looks to the horizon while through the drifting grass the wind makes one long pass.ong pass...
...The path behind a barn fills as if never worn, heading out to the fields whenever the wind yields and the way lies clear...
Vol. 103 • March 1976 • No. 6
