from Impressions upon an Afternoon Visit to Callaway Gardens by Caroline Ellis

from Impressions upon an Afternoon Visit to Callaway Gardens

by 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.