Explore "Mutability" by John Gould Fletcher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The wind shakes the mists Making them quiver With faint drum-tones of thunder.
Out of the crane-haunted mists of autumn, Blue and brown Rolls the moon.
There was a city living here long ago, Of all that city There is only one stone left half-buried in the marsh, With characters upon it which no one now can read.