HyC Adventures
The Poetics of Perception
Wittgenstein's Dust of Snow





“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.


—Robert Frost





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.

Which same

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.







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