Saturday, 16 March 2013

Moon Vs Sun

The sky-line melts from russet into blue,
 Unbroken the horizon, saving where
 A wreath of smoke curls up the far, thin air,
 And points the distant lodges of the Sioux.

 Etched where the lands and cloudlands touch and die
 solitary Indian tepee stands, 
 The only habitation of these lands,
 That roll their magnitude from sky to sky. 


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by Emily Pauline Johnson


1/15ƒ/6.3ISO 80026 mm

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