September 21

Wear the weight of equinoctial evening
light like melons bruised on all the porches
feel the houses tenderly appraise you
hold you in the watchfulness of mothers

once the nighttime was a milky river
washing past the swimmers in the sunset
rinsing over sleepers of the moring
soon the night will be an eyeless quarry

where the shrunken daylight and its rebels
loosened, [space] dive like stones in perfect silence
names and voices drown without reflection

then the houses draw you. Then they have you