A City Winter

alfred eisenstaedt

A City Winter (excerpt)
Frank O'Hara
The snow drifts low
and yet neglects to cover me, and I
dance just ahead to keep my heart in sight.
How like a queen, to seek with jealous eye
the face that flees you, hidden city, white
swan. There's no art to free me, blinded so.

[copyright Frank O'Hara, 1951]

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