.  INFINITE SERVICE TO THE PRESENT  Nothing remote  about this house in the city in the snow,  but we dwell in empty freedom nevertheless.  Snow fills the drive and walk.  Subtle endless tones of grey all day.  At dusk the sun dips  below the western cloud cover  and last lights linger  on roof ridges and trees in the east.  Silence so sweet  even the hungry ghosts listen.  Every evening birds come to roost  on the house next door.  The beautiful old maple out front  is enough to sadden you to death.  No one has been seen at a window  in a long time.  The boy is now a confused man  left unprepared for the world,  its dues, burdens, and dust.  All lost in a tax auction  after three generations.  Where will he go?  No one asks 