***
From the top of the tower,
An elegant chessboard
Of streets and sidewalks
with people-like figures
distracts
Rachmaninoff’s “Russian Rhapsody”:
I follow a straight line,
behind the flock of geese,
to someone
further from me
than the North Sea and Mars.
Only 44 steps up
above the ground,
balanced high in my belfry,
I lose the sight of neighbours
and rational
To continue without light and sound
a journey
towards your hand –
like leaves from November trees
I descend
to the heart of your palm.
