“For one carved instant as they flew,
The language had no simile—
Silver, crystal, ivory
Were tarnished. Etched upon the horizon blue,
The frieze must go unchallenged, for the lift
And carriage of the wings would stain the drift
Of stars against a tropic indigo
Or dull the parable of snow….”
- From ‘Sea Gulls’ by Edwin John Pratt (1882-1964)
Read the remainder of this poem here, and more of his work at Canadian Poetry Online.
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