Far Shore

Across the inletthe lights beginas windows.Nothing more.Then one goes dark.Another.A shape appearsin what is missing.A boat crosses it.Gone.Waited.The pattern returns.Not a word.Not a message.Almost structure.Almost intention.Moved farther back.Strangely clearer.For several minutesthe city across the waterseems to be thinking.No answer arrives.Only the sudden certaintythat an answercould exist.Hard to leave.Stayed untilthe pattern broke.