Hour of bright & dim; such stillness you could

skate, crack to beneath – 
Circling out, not yet dark

enough to watch

traces of universe, blinking down. Only 
the glimmer & still. One last swerve & you

are returned,
              the view softly

                                          frozen over
at your back:                lanterns & palms &

the sheer-seeming drop of grass & stair –
Water   as though it might hold you

on your feet, figurine-like                        & turning.