Explore "Bright Clouds" by Edward Thomas on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Bright clouds of may Shade half the pond.
Beyond, All but one bay Of emerald Tall reeds Like criss-cross bayonets Where a bird once called, Lies bright as the sun.
No one heeds.
The light wind frets And drifts the scum Of may-blossom.
Till the moorhen calls Again Naught's to be done By birds or men.
Still the may falls.