Wednesday, March 16, 2016

our hands folded together made a swan

it was a quiet night
     the moon lay 
on the calm water 
     like pink bronze
or a cymbal struck
     long ago
the boat drifted
     its rope lax (probably tied to the dock)
no one worried about the boat
     or the shore or the moon or beyond ---
the mountains
     the shine on the water Was 
and we slept like that
     drifting
--- until, much later, the bark of two dogs