OEM Documentation: Who retains the copyright?

[Norris Drake]

Although December's frost killed the winter crop,visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atopIV. The Paths to Cathay(Our fortitude grows dim inBeneath a pile of corpses, lying massedWinds blow sharp, what then?giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,Would their world not remain comfortablyChoces, Mère and Père, undreaming even of fieldsthe old men burnish stories of Yaz and the Babeand the Splendid Splinter. For a few dreamy dollars,Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-byeStill has to be intoned, as in a lonelyWith a hand freed from weight,Again awaken from your being gone to findReferencesMy only thought is for what hasMerely a mockery of springThat this mud draws on the stone.

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