Classic Poem

They say there are shadows
That wait for your hands,
Water-cool shadows
To cover your hands.

They say there is twilight
For eyes that are done
With piecing together
The colors of sun;
They say there is twilight
Kinder than sun.

They tell of the purple
Of time that will sweep
Over you, purple
Where you will sleep —
Purple time drifting
Like sand where you sleep.