A Summer Sky

The grass rustles,
And the lizards bask
By broken columns,
Once pulsing with the
Traffic of busy men;
Time, after time,
Has come and gone;
And the place that
Knew them once,
Knows them no more:
Breath leaves no wrinkles
On the face
Of the summer sky;
Orion still hangs
His glittering sword;
And the Horses yet
Weave their mystic braids;
For the hand is laid
Gently upon the man,
And a word
Of promise to the ear:
Breaking it to the hope,
In the mountain mists,
And the deep places
Of the earth;
Till they were dead or vanished,
That sought its life.