The sun is slipping away before my eyes,
And miracles lie burnished in long rays
That hid familiar streets in day's disguise
When common gold flit past the heedless gaze.

Could I have saved the sun, gilt-echoing
Her plunge, in crystalled laugh or sculptured frown?
Have cupped farewells from robin's fading wing?
Arrested satin petals?---The sun goes down.

Eternal sunsets rule the world, eluding
Jeweled prisons, rich or poor, to steal
The path of gypsies--fleeing or intruding
Free of ceremony's crushing seal.

Gold-slender rays descend on darkened lands
To rest on silent wonder's open hands.

1963

MEMORIES

I treat them gently,
memories of summer,
turning past with the eternal sun,
for they are never more again.

No tears to mourn them,
memories of delicate summer flowers,
for they are crushed by heavy waters
And easily washed away.

No walls to hold them,
memories of summer sunsets,
for they will vanish
under pressing shadows.

No journeys to retrieve them,
memories of summer friendship,
for they are gifts spread rarely, freely,
precious as the myrrh.

1963