“Dust of Snow”
Dust of Snow
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
The way that a crow
shook down right on me
some snow, rather like dust,
from a high hemlock bough
has given my heart
a different feeling about things,
and partly saved
a day I felt had been wasted.
Pulverous Silver Essence!
How dear the ways of Nature! Lo, yon crow
Precipitated earthward, even on me,
A pulverous silver essence, dust of snow,
White benefactions of a hemlock tree;
Bequeathing (legacy unto my heart!)
Transfigurations of an erstwhile mood,
Redeeming a jeweled modicum, wee part
Of one diurnal unit I had rued.
Wittgenstein and the Crow
as instanced in
“the progress of phenomena”:
Item: the avian
disbursal of elate frigidities
from a species Old Pop Longfellow saluted
as second in his paradigm of murmurers.
affords me möglichkeit
of shifting psyche-gears:
thereby reclaiming data stamped KAPUT.
I first came across these variations on Frost’s poem many years ago as a college student. Who the author is, I know not, but the cleverness is of such high order that it is worthy of presentation and preservation.