Crisply the night defines the bright-eyed towers That wink across the winter bay to us. As we move toward them on our floating bus The multi-eyes would seem to have strange powers To pull us onward with a will not ours Through watery darkness to tall shafts of light. And we within are comforted and bright - Warm, with the scent of snack-bar food, indoors. We seem so safe; an island moving through Dark challenges about to left and right: And passing one who holds against the night A torch, and wears a brilliant crownlet, too. Until quite suddenly, we're face to face: The city folds us in its stone embrace.