The edge of that other square

The edge of that other square cut from the right
Not daring to oppose
In the dread circle hemmed by glaciers,
To run, as in the time of the bee, seeking
At four, the spectators leave in pairs, off
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
Allowing me to let your picture form and wake
Your gloved hands covering your lips’ good-bye
In the sound of the snow. What the countless
Pealing, it tries to fill the cold night air
II. Quest and Conquest
With its lament, it often sounds, instead,
By bloody pool rattling, gasping his last.
Right, and appears from here to be overcome
In Winter Haven, the ballplayers are stretching
In dense bare branches, or the ubiquitous
Beneath a pile of corpses, lying massed
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,