A View of the Harbor (2)
Money is light:
at every window
a thousand, a million,
beams and beckons,
wheels wheel
to weave the millennium,
even the bums palm
shiny silver.
The peace of great wealth
lies down in the streets,
the peace of great wealth
moves over the waters,
and rich men call out
sailing homeward,
rich men, strong men,
working wonders --
their light skips down
on the bottomless harbor,
their light skips up
into bottomless heaven.
copyright © 1998 Gordon Fitch