Orchard Skies

I have known skies where Egypt’s burning sands Gave back more bronze and heat than sunset gave, From tall Sicilian cliffs watched night’s dark hands Plunge a young moon into the sea’s wide grave, And from the shore of China when desire Had caught and doomed me like a prisoner, Watched the slow east burst suddenly into fire Lighting the day with red and lavender. These were great skies that I could not behold More than a miserly moment before they had fled, But when my orchards shake off winter’s cold I can reach up and touch them where they spread Bright heavens trembling petal-pale and proud, And break a bough, and keep it, like a cloud.