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