Neither one waiting at the bend

Neither one waiting at the bend

   Nor stationed upon the hill

Was present to make offense

   Or entertain some evil will.

A breeze came, another went -

   Rattling the bursages

As a creeping serpent

   Going into hiding does.

If I died right here -

   How many lonesome clouds -

How many foraging birds

   Would pass by before I was found?

Would the beloved sun

   Care to kiss me good-bye?

Would the angels of the canyon

   Guide me on my flight?