Classic Poem

I see you in the silver
Of moons that shine in the morning,
Swung in an argent west,
Before dim autumn dawns.
I see your slim, long wings,
Stayed speed and boundless power
And miles and miles and miles,
From arctic to antarctic,
From antarctic to arctic
On through the leagueless skies.
And while you swing, still,
In the museum's habitat,
You bring the bleak heart of tundras.
Your pallid, still plumage
In silver and white
To me seems but one message—
One single symbol—