Classic Poem

The ship of skies
Foundered in the west
And its blazing prow
Sank off some thundering shore beyond the silence
And dark green of the world.

Or like ten rivers
The thin-spread clouds ran
Converging with vermilion and purple waters
On the western ledge
And pouring in flame over the world's edge ...

In those bright regions
Sails were blown beyond our trouble
And some great action
Moved like song ...

But here on tired Earth
The heavy mist filled the green runnels of valleys;
The weary air
Grew dark around the thrush's aching throat;
The house
Gloomed itself silent and black ...
The day
Drowsed off to sleep.