Town of a hundred thousand hands
Locks in for snow. The sky goes somehow
Orange and green, orange and green
As the animals go where animals go:
Away, behind, due south, below.
Flaring in freshening welcome dusk
Like matches struck the Nativities glow,
Curl in the sight of arriving boy,
Chorusing parent, mouthing girl,
Stressed and entire the infant world.
The mirrors are framed with the lights they mirror:
They people and double the rooms with infinite
Manifestations of a bright none other.
‘For one to appear!’ cries someone there,
So close to expecting it, eyes to the air.
Moments when what no longer matters
Is actually Time and incredibly Money
Visit on towns of ten to ten million,
Swoop like a targeting bird from an eyrie,
As furiously quickly, as over, as scary.
Who saw it all stamp. Over the writer
Hovers that quiet that started as answer,
Aged to a question, ended as quiet
But sensed, as the animal everywhere sense
Sudden distinct, involving events.