The mind in winter retreating into itself knows How green sap is held in the embrace of snow.

Blue-black (of her memorized eyes) is how the grave Statues gaze at his passing shadow, shaggy with snow.

In their farewell, nothing left really to tell or show But his x-rayed heart, inked with shards of snow.

What does the dead general dream in his icicled tomb? Wind off the river etches memory on his brow of snow.

“Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is”: So is the dark one hidden to Radhika by the snow.

After Wallace Steven's "Snow Man"