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and new-looking when the snow
covers them, below the wood
that stands patient in the air.
The tree has had its full growth
for some thirty years at least,
bears its multitudes of seeds
regularly -- small white dots
in cotton that expands vaguely
and goes aloft on breezes
looking supremely idle,
to drift up against fenceposts
and weeds and along the sides
of farm buildings and upon
the crops, irrelevantly.
The tree having grown from one
white dot, you know that of course
on the microscopic scale
in the seed's interior
it worked as distinctively
as it does here, fully grown --
below those microscopic
particulars, well below
the molecular, there lay
at last vagueness, though; vagueness
is ultimate. Thence it came,
thither doubtless it will go;
but here it stands out clearly