A queer mist stands from the sea today,
A queer color like the primary blue 
Supposed but never limed in the environs 
Of certain children. It slants all mute 
Things toward their deepness. 
The cypress darkens. The wafery city pales. 
The Byzantine forts on the Hill 
Grow young again, calm castellations of 
Vague stony gold, squinting through ennui.