One Carved Instant.
For one carved instant as they flew,
The language had no simile.
Silver, crystal, ivory
Were tarnished, Etched upon the ocean blue,
The frieze must go unchallenged, for the lift
And carriage of the wing would stain the drift
of stars against a tropic indigo.
Now settling one by one
Within great hollows or were curled
Crests caught the spectrum from the sun,
A thousand wings are furled.
No clay-born lilies of the world Could blow as free
As these wild orchids of the sea.
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