Winter Clock

  Now that, he was almost thinking, was beautiful, wasn’t it? Thrust across the pearl-sheened window some  sketchy twigs and one heavy, black snow-doubled  branch, and from it a glossy crow’s  oblique chandelle  away:  baton arc,  smoke script, fled  pendulum, a second’s, the hour’s famously  ordinary signature, fleeting route, at the after-fling of which he […]