grandmother poem

suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
moonlight deep and tender
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
sun stepped down from his golden throne
a few more windy days
i stand in the cold gray weather
when night drifts along the streets of the city
perhaps
god
backward, turn backward
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
in all things not spoken of
i have heard them in the night