ABSTRACT
for H.S. It all happened so fast. Fenya was in the straight Chair in the corner, her youngest sucking On her breast. The screams, and a horseman Outside the cottage. Then, her father in a blue tunic Falling through the door onto the boards. Fenya leaned over him, her blouse Still at the waist and a single drop of her yellow milk Falling into the open eye of her father. He dies Looking up through this screen, what he sees Is a little lamp-glow, Like the poet describes less often even than harness bells Or the icon with pine boughs. He sees snow Falling into a bland field where a horse is giving Birth to more snow, dragging its placenta all over The glaze which is red; all the snow is red, the horse's Blood is white. He sees tears on Fenya's face and Milk coming like bone hairpins from her breasts. The straight force in the twig that makes a great black Branch. Two of which are crossed over his chest. Terror is The vigil of astonishment.
