Smoke

Light-winged Smoke! Icarian bird,
Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight;
Lark without song, and messenger of dawn,
Circling above the hamlets as thy nest;
Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form
Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts;
By night star-veiling, and by day
Darkening the light and blotting out the sun;
Go thou, my incense, upward from this hearth,
And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame.
Smoke, by Henry David Thoreau - 1817-1862

You can see the complete illustration here:
https://www.instagram.com/p/CC4CzDcFcIB/

Hope you like it 😊