Sailor

Fire start nights, the mystery of not
Being somewhere you know –
Water creatures on the shore of wet
Banking into a turn at the speed of air.

Flashing silver rain,
Moonlight in the fountain,
Pale yellow eyes with black dots,
Stretched along the skin of the water,

Watching, waiting, serene
As pomegranates fall from the sky
filling pools of red juice around cobbles
making the night urgent.

Making stone beat feet hard and fast.
Making the woman of the dry ask “What’s your hurry?”