My mind is waves curled with wind,
Is smoke that twists and flares,
Is leaves that tumble in a dance
To flapping slapping airs.
But when the wind has gone away
And smoke hangs up like string
And leaves lie still in still embrace
Nor moves not anything,
And water sits as flat as glass
And holds the blue eyed sky,
Then I am gone and never been.
There is no eye nor I.