Is it winter again, is it cold again,
didn't Frank just slip on the ice,
didn't he heal, weren't the spring seeds planted

didn't the night end,
didn't the melting ice
flood the narrow gutters

wasn't my body
rescued, wasn't it safe

didn't the scar form, invisible
above the injury

terror and cold,
didn't they

O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,   
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?   
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,   
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming;   
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof

Shall I tell you, then, how it is?—
There came a cloven gleam
Like a tongue of darkened flame
To flicker in me.

And so I seem
To have you still the same
In one world with me.

In the flicker of a flower,
In a worm that is blind, yet strives,
In a mouse that pauses to