Pink faces—(worlds or flowers or seas or stars),
You all alike are patterned with hot bars
Of coloured light; and falling where I stand,
The sharp and rainbow splinters from the band
Seem fireworks, splinters of the Infinite—
(Glitter of leaves the echoes). And the night
Will weld this dust of bright Infinity
To forms that we may touch and call and see:—
Pink pyramids of faces: tulip-trees
Spilling night perfumes on the terraces.
The music, blond airs waving like a sea
Draws in its vortex of immensity
The new-awakened flower-strange hair and eyes
Of crowds beneath the floating summer skies.
And, ’gainst the silk pavilions of the sea
I watch the people move incessantly
Vibrating, petals blown from flower-hued stars
Beneath the music-fireworks’ waving bars;
So all seems indivisible, at one:
The flow of hair, the flowers, the seas that run,—
A coloured floating music of the night
Through the pavilions of the Infinite.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on July 23, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.