The trickster must have feigned his blindness 
or limped into his cold iron cage, 
because his topaz eyes snapped up 
–caught me in his glittering gaze 


II 
When I glanced behind the heavy bars, 
I saw for years those twin lights pacing 
back and forth – patterns of my sleep 
hounded by his breathless panting. 


III 
Enduring the corridors of night, 
I see his hunched figure paddling, 
an oar clutched to his dark canoe 
plunges into the sea – vanishes.