A horizon was taken.
A horizon was lost.
Not by my past,
but Progress, Dear One.

Yet a window still opens between
two grand builds;
That displays trees, clouds and
sky beyond.

Yet I miss the horizon of the
North and West,
Where the weather coursed,
Where distant Towers and
aquamarine caressed.

But there will be others,
my heart says;
Others that are grander,
Others wider and more
beautiful still:

To the Horizons new and
Horizons yet to come;
Each one more breath-taking
than the last.

. . .

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