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Dream of blue-stone

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  • Dream of blue-stone

    Here we live
    among blue-stone lanes
    leading between walls
    into the shadow city.

    Dancers depart the clubs
    after dark in their tall shoes,
    clattering on the curb.

    The watcher in the high window
    counts the hours,
    boiling a brew on a stove.
    The ledge above the range
    supports framed portraits.

    Etched eyes follow the guests
    among the furniture
    come from summer into winter
    down under the earth
    where we whirl widdershins.

    Blue figures spattered on white walls
    leap and twirl, dive and crawl,
    and fade as the stars fade,
    exposing spines and skulls.

    I call to them as they spin
    clockwise into noon,
    leaving the gate unlocked,
    their voices lingering in the wind.

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