I wend along the silver stream
Where glimmer iridescent rocks like gemstones
From their golden settings of sand.
Suddenly, dusky, roiling clouds
Extinguish noon’s candle,
Dulling the water’s jewelry
And unsilvering the stream.
As I squint up above the spiring pines,
I behold a massive angel-shape,
Ivory wings widespread, widespread,
In one of the gossamer cloud-cathedrals.
Too soon, it soars, vanishes
Behind the crooked, red barn on the hill,
And for the loss, I have no words.