The swift red flesh, a winter king— 
 Who squired the glacier woman down the sky? 
 She ran the neighing canyons all the spring; 
 She spouted arms; she rose with maize—to die.
The Bridge. The Dance
The swift red flesh, a winter king— 
 Who squired the glacier woman down the sky? 
 She ran the neighing canyons all the spring; 
 She spouted arms; she rose with maize—to die.
The Bridge. The Dance