Back On Land

   Staff, splinters, shattered rods,

Fill the pavement with heat, light.

Then you step out on the street

And a sudden puddle of night

Flows and ripples over the brilliance,

Wobbling as you wobble, distorted.

You realize the shadow is you on the hot

Pavement, yours the contorted

Form, and the streets seem

Paved with gold. But suddenly a

Cloud covers the sun, cold

Darkness flows over, and you

Realize the shining was fool's gold.