CONQUEST

[Dedicated to F. W.]

Hard, chilly colors:

straw grey, frost grey

the grey of frozen ground:

and you, O sun,

close above the horizon!

It is I holds you —

half against the sky

half against a black tree trunk

icily resplendent!

Lie there, blue city, mine at last —

rimming the banked blue grey

and rise, indescribable smoky yellow

into the overpowering white!