In the desolate time of this golden fern, the frost spreads
across the wild petals, a white stardust,
to sift the air,
a bitter breeze;
this is the silver of vision!
- Hilda Doolittle
In the desolate time of this golden fern, the frost spreads
across the wild petals, a white stardust,
to sift the air,
a bitter breeze;
this is the silver of vision!