Thief

The cloudless night by the waning light Of a tired moon The poet stole across the town (Sleeping, always sleeping And dreaming, never dreaming) A shadow and a shade A ghost that was just made Creeping across the common Past the and past the fountain He pushed his wheelbarrow Forward through the gloom And rested by the river Where he could see the stone The shape of it alone Made him grasp his heart An artist when his art Stares back at him a fount of living inspiration The stone he brought it home Beneath the secrecy of night The thief cometh like the Lord Into the house where it was stored He crept into the dreams of the townspeople Like a knife into the vein Or a rope around the throat