On A Cliff
A single breath amidst the mist,
Can not the morning wake the Sun?
Idly does the brush of dawn alight,
And splash the royal hue across the sky.
How long do cliffs live?
And how long stretch their memories 'ere they die?
All things green stretch far behind,
And forward all the seas and dreams of seas,
The color of a less gray sky.
The foam of violent thirst, like the breath of a rabid beast.
And shrill the mourning of gulls.
Eternity swallows pebbles carelessly kicked.
... And then ...
All songs lull good bye,
All dischordant notes harmonize,
All dreams swept shut by the weight of oblivion,
All poetry, stilled in a shuddered breath,
The foam devours all,
Even pebbles, foolishly kicked.