On a gray plain of frigid waste clings a twisted bush stung by tiny shards of sterile ice Bitter wind ravages the land with chaotic gusts that winnow and winnow the snow carving the ribs of a slouching carcass It blows the ice crystals high and Oh! a sun-dog in the hazy sky — hot yellow wrapped in the parentheses of dual rainbows...
"New Year's Day,"
Sketch: Vol. 43
, Article 7.
Available at: https://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol43/iss2/7