– 228 –

Last Night by Water

The lake is beginning its entry into the realm
of silver and orange consciousness. The village clock is striking

nine times lightly. Two great oaks are leaning out
over the water while a low-flying bird blesses its length.

In a long ceremony, the snow-peaked Alps are receiving
the last rites and two ducks with fifteen ducklings

are gliding out into the darkening lake like fragments
of a dream whose mood is one of ecstatic sanity.

I am standing on the jetty with my right hand upturned
testing for rain. In a dream I saw a bomb dropped.

A young man urged us to leave everything, to run
and to enter the solace and shelter of water.