In June orangeries of daybreak
Early faces bathe themselves,
And the quietude they enter
Is a fine and stunning place,
Made to return and render
Life’s unseen tender sense.
And the light, the first and gentle,
Comes touching all that is,
Like the wonder of an adroit painter
Who elicits, wings, and quickens
What is to live and linger
In you and me as luminous kind
And gilded kin, briefly relieved
In semblances time blends and kindles.
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