the sound rushes
wraps a palm round the moon
and for just a moment
the water at our ankles is warm

and the stone's rubbed to reflecting
by day and star
the slow silty motion of fish
come dusk or dawn
on the river floor

I turn and leave
depart this place for a city
beyond the desert I heard
men walk with fire
and the ancients fold still
the years into circles
and spin them out over the sea
for reading under water


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