Improvisations: Light And Snow: 15

The music of the morning is red and warm;

Snow lies against the walls;

And on the sloping roof in the yellow sunlight

Pigeons huddle against the wind.

The music of evening is attenuated and thin —

The moon seen through a wave by a mermaid;

The crying of a violin.

Far down there, far down where the river turns to the west,

The delicate lights begin to twinkle

On the dusky arches of the bridge:

In the green sky a long cloud,

A smouldering wave of smoky crimson,

Breaks in the freezing wind: and above it, unabashed,

Remote, untouched, fierly palpitant,

Sings the first star.