The Day Opens With The Brown Light Of Snowfall And Past The Window Snowflakes Fall And Fall. I Sit In My Chair All Day And Work And Work Measuring Words Against Each Other. I Open The Piano And Play A Tune But Find It Does Not Say What I Feel, I Grow Tired Of Measuring Words Against Each Other, I Grow Tired Of These Four Walls, And I Think Of You, Who Write Me That You Have Just Had A Daughter And Named Her After Your First Sweetheart, And You, Who Break Your Heart, Far Away, In The Confusion And Savagery Of A Long War, And You Who, Worn By The Bitterness Of Winter, Will Soon Go South. The Snowflakes Fall Almost Straight In The Brown Light Past My Window, And A Sparrow Finds Refuge On My Window-Ledge. This Alone Comes To Me Out Of The World Outside As I Measure Word With Word.