A misty wave rolls ‘cross the swelling scene.
It rolls and breaks upon a range or two
Of snow-soaked hills on fields of brilliant blue —
Erode away with time, weather’d by wind.
They melt into the sea of endless shades
Of lapis, azure, cobalt, sapphire true.
Perhaps a breath might make them crumble soon.
Perhaps the heat could melt them sooner still.