One afternoon, in the
Forbidden City,
People roam about --
Sightseeing.
The very next morning,
A single line of tracks
Through freshly fallen snow
Cuts across the very
Same yard.
Forbidden [Free Verse]
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fine powdery snow
fills ground around grass:
frigid Winter day.

fake snow from
fountain spray in wind;
the cold is real.

between snowy banks,
a silvery river
slips through cold mountains.
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

late Spring:
a dust of snow remains
on green mountains.