The Sky In The Pool

Down by the glassy pool Sand and water meet, There's a little wooden stool, Marks of little feet.

When the broth was in the bowl, Mother called to-day; Mother called and no one came, Someone was away.

Then there came a little boy, Whose broth was very cool, Stuttering in wonderment, "The sky is in the pool!"

And mother wept, because the clear Depths of all pool-skies, The soul's wonder, the heart's fear,