Vision at Franconia

by RALPH SCHNEEBAUM
WINTER, and through the snow
The silent girl brings gifts of glass
To that one soul she loves; all of her
Is frozen round her eyes, and whether
He is dying, or alone, lost in some chasm
Where the mountain fell, we shall never know:
She looms, passes, and is gone.
All that is left to hurt the sense
Are footprints that evaporate like ghosts.
I have heard the skiers say,
“She is a poor man’s daughter,
She is a nurse, she is a mad girl
Spinning in the snow, she is a shade
That vanished here in a torrent long ago.”
Some chuckle, others do not know.
I do not know.
I have dreamed it was for some mortal love
She bore these gifts, eyes burning
In the clench of cold; then I became
A ghost, and hoped it was to me she brought
Her flame; my voice has echoed back
Within the many seasons, calling her
By many names; I shall never know,
But remember only how those bones of glass
Carried the translucent image of her flesh
Along the endless mists, and ways of white.