something skims in from the water
at night and shadows up the sand
and pauses in the grass

a man wipes finger prints from a window
another paints his face with charcoal

in the street shoes fill with rainy days
and ice as the moon grows behind chimneys

the water stops moving under black trees
in the cold of the dark it moves
the grass aside and enters town
a few steps ahead of morning passing
windows, lost toys, home, the smell
of summer morning spread
by the wings of birds