Colors for Georg Trakl

To know the moment as blue
and not as red, is to see it for the first time
as it has always been, in inches,
bestowed through snow,

how it enters white and turns to blue
when you remember it: a kind of sleepy
process--- digging the sheep
that you’ve forgotten out of the snow.

Shepherd, alone, with the shovel in the storm,
what white bulk, becoming blue, do you turn over,
remembering your sister’s wrists--- what path
do you dig that has not already filled again?