Classic Poem

Cloud shadows move across the hills,
Slowly changing, the shadow of the straight tree marks the grass.
Light spills small-winged shadows between flowers,
The dial throws a dark line on the hours,
And steel wings mark the earth over which they pass.

You stand between me and the sun;
I bear your shadow as a cool caress.
But time so long ago begun
And swiftly moving,
Only time is shadowless.