the stone's rubbed smooth
by the shudder of day, star gloss
the trill motion of the fins of fish
at dusk on the river floor I pass

or frozen behind
young glass cracks
the surf crashing gray
alien like echos on a floor
or children at that moment
when they know
or don't want to know
but must

how they'll think back
call up snow, dog
an old man who carried
small fires in his palms
like a water spill
and smiled over frogs
floating in glass

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