Abstract

Across the blue horizon that divides Pale twilight skies from twilight-darkened earth A shepherd leads beneath a crescent moon His bending line of pliant moon-eyed sheep. The laggards and the leaders, nipped by dogs, Swirl from a formless mass of flesh and wool Toward faces separated yet the same, Soon lost to sun in starlight like the stars. The shepherd in procession grasps his staff, His right hand parting his cloak to show within His long blue shirt, a bishop’s under-robe, Literal symbols...