The Sight and the Shadow.

Shadows creep upon the blank walls.
The sunlight is dressed in white.  They throw shadows on
Torn flowers.  Sight is here, and is not.
The words are clear, and are not.  Here the river

Gurgles to itself, and falls fast asleep in its own chair.
The chair totters and spills over.

Night comes,
The stars are awake and hear the river.  The river is

All right.  The stars are the river.  Distance comes

With sight.  Take me outside of myself, and hear
The words chime with reverence.