Came moonwise on the gloom of his despair.
And lo, the foe was naught but yielding air,
A vacancy to fill with his intent!
So from his spacious bed he ‘rose and went
Three-footed; and the vision goaded him.
All morning southward to the bare sky rim
The rugged coulee zigzagged, mounting slow;
And ever as it ‘rose, the lean creek’s flow
Dwindled and dwindled steadily, until
At last a scooped-out basin would not fill;