![]() |
Night Cloudsby Amy Lowell |
Beating their golden hoofs upon the glass heavens; The white mares of the moon are all standing on their hind legs Pawing at the green porcelain doors of the remote heavens Fly, Mares! Strain your utmost Scatter the milky dust of stars, Or the tiger sun will leap upon you and destroy you With one lick of his vermilion tongue
Dan Welcher's exquisite duo for flute and harp, White Mares of the Moon, was inspired by this highly evocative imagist poem.
Return to SPRINGKEEPER Stories
|