Some Nights...Shiva

Some nights,
the glasses
clink and tinkle
like the
ornaments
in
your
hair,
Shiva!

An inner night
falls,
dropping
like
a
lover's
dress.

And the dancers
have as many arms as
you do,
filled and empty
with implements
of
comprehension.

Then with
my eyes open wide,
in amazement,
like a sentry
whose
long
night
duty has
ended,
I watch a dawn's
light
infiltrate
the bar,
making
stale beer
smell
sweet, and
a bartender
and his
drunks
look
like
gods.

Stephen Williamson