THE LEGACY
12
from Impressions upon an Afternoon Visit to Callaway Gardens Caroline Ellis
A lonesome crane stands. Whitish blue, brackish waters, Steps as silkily as the oily tide beneath. Soft, softly. The grindings of Time beneath my feet. Mustn’t shake him, or he’ll Fly Billowing cloth loosed from some great Lord’s shoulders Melts into the great Open Space of his birth In marvelous silence.
