In the thick of a teeming snowfall I saw my shadow on snow. I turned and looked back up at the sky, Where we still look to ask the why Of everything below.

If I shed such a darkness,

If the reason was in me,

That shadow o£ mine should show in form

Against the shapeless shadow of storm,

How swarthy I must be.

I turned and looked back upward. The whole sky was blue; And the thick flakes floating at a pause Were but frost knots on an airy gauze, With the sun shining through.

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