Heaven-invading hills are drowned
⁠In wide moving waves of mist,
Phlox before my door are wound
⁠In dripping wreaths of amethyst.

Ten feet away the solid earth
⁠Changes into melting cloud,
There is a hush of pain and mirth,
⁠No bird has heart to speak aloud.

Here in a world without a sky,
⁠Without the ground, without the sea,
The one unchanging thing is I,
⁠Myself remains to comfort me.