Poem by Elizabeth Bishop

Rain Towards Morning

The great light cage has broken up in the air, 
freeing, I think, about a million birds 
whose wild ascending shadows will not be back, 
and all the wires come falling down. 
No cage, no frightening birds; the rain 
is brightening now. The face is pale 
that tried the puzzle of their prison 
and solved it with an unexpected kiss, 
whose freckled unsuspected hands alit.

1. Crusoe in England
2. The End of March
3. To Be Written on the Mirror in Whitewash
4. Chemin De Fer
5. Manuelzinho

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