“Come with me and I’ll take you
to where an invisible ballerina
shoves icy clouds through the night,
pausing only to spin on hilltops
and watch the leaves fall sighing
to lie quiet among the bones
of other white leaves
from other cold years.
Down in the village,
little dogs bark like freight trains.
Or is this only the ballerina’s song?
Come. It is time for us to go.”