Dawn

Ecstatic bird songs pound

the hollow vastness of the sky

with metallic clinkings—

beating color up into it

at a far edge,—beating it, beating it

with rising, triumphant ardor,—

stirring it into warmth,

quickening in it a spreading change,—

bursting wildly against it as

dividing the horizon, a heavy sun

lifts himself—is lifted—

bit by bit above the edge

of things,—runs free at last

out into the open—!lumbering

glorified in full release upward—

                             songs cease.