White look, she stretches, flexing
   In wanton cool and glist’ning
      ‘Midst bare backs firm and straight
         Of silver tracks — —
Snow is in blackface and she mocks at those
That call her pure.

"Snow" is the original fugue, though it was not called that originally, done in 2010. It features a verse by the same name which was applied in silver leaf to strips of translucent paper and woven in. It is still a work in progress, as the silver leaf is still in the process of tarnishing. Maybe another dozen years.  10"x14.5"   POR

SNOW (2)

So no two snowflakes are the same? Says who?
I’ve said the same for years, but is it true?
In all the drifted snow in all the land,
How many flakes have touched a human hand?
How many, caught, have teased the human eye
And melted, leaving just a memory?
Each unexamined snowflake calls my bluff,
And tells me that I haven’t cared enough
To ask the question “Is this really so?”
And test the boundaries of what I truly know.