Rain Towards Morning by Elizabeth Bishop

The great light cage has broken up in the air, 
freeing, I think, about a million birds 
whose wild ascending shadows will not be back, 
and all the wires come falling down. 
No cage, no frightening birds; the rain 
is brightening now. The face is pale 
that tried the puzzle of their prison 
and solved it with an unexpected kiss, 
whose freckled unsuspected hands alit.