![](https://pittsburghquarterly.com/wp-content/uploads/articles/Free_snow_blizzard_with_tree_branches_texture_for_layers_creative_commons_3061607234-scaled-e1672885051338-368x172.jpg)
Poem Ending With a Line from Tomas Tranströmer (via Robin Robertson)
Oh to be veeringalong Baum Boulevardto the beatus via north,where the squalls of Mercer vanish for a minute, horizon a violet knife-cut, curtainof snow throbbingat the grade’s bottom—none of which you’ll know, my dear,no matter how loudthe ringing tambourines of ice.