Dillard Sissman by Edgar Lee Masters — Read

The buzzards wheel slowly / In wide circles, in a sky / Faintly hazed as from dust from the road.

And a wind sweeps through the pasture where I lie / Beating the grass into long waves.

My kite is above the wind, / Though now and then it wobbles, / Like a man shaking his shoulders;

And the tail streams out momentarily, / Then sinks to rest.

And the buzzards wheel and wheel, / Sweeping the zenith with wide circles / Above my kite. And the hills sleep.

And a farm house, white as snow, / Peeps from green trees -- far away.

And I watch my kite, / For the thin moon will kindle herself ere long, / Then she will swing like a pendulum dial / To the tail of my kite.

A spurt of flame like a water-dragon / Dazzles my eyes --

I am shaken as a banner!