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A WINTER SCENE I David Ray "all history's a winter sport or three . . . — e.e. cummings Not one man feels that I am near. I warm my hands by burning pines. It was only those who were then at that time alive who knew, hoped, loved, applauded my next move, prayed me back from islands. Strolling now I know what the scene could once more be, splendid war indeed, if I should choose, mustering even these lazy belly-sliders upright to my call, doing anew our sublime deeds worthwhile, that leave such hills as these littered with more than discarded sleds of wood. In some of these voices I discern great possibility. They need more fire and not mere snowballs that they throw, which I step aside from, not at all enraged, thinking, thinking, and sketching out the battle plan. 18 • T h e M is s o u r i R eview ...


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