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?