Clouds Across The Canyon

Shadows of clouds March across the canyon, Shadows of blue hands passing Over a curtain of flame.

Clutching, staggering, upstriking, Darting in blue-black fury, To where pinnacles, green and orange, Await.

The winds are battling and striving to break them: Thin lightnings spit and flicker, The peaks seem a dance of scarlet demons Flitting amid the shadows.

Grey rain-curtains wave afar off, Wisps of vapour curl and vanish. The sun throws soft shafts of golden light Over rose-buttressed palisades.

Now the clouds are a lazy procession; Blue balloons bobbing solemnly Over black-dappled walls,

Where rise sharp-fretted, golden-roofed cathedrals Exultantly, and split the sky with light.