The grackles stroll about on the black floor of sorrow.

Rabbis robed in saffron feed them

minnow bread … They come to meet you.

Ficino and Moses and his black wife

walk like birds and dance. Among the stalks of wild grass

the saddled horses drink from sorrow tanks.

But the grackles’ toes are springy—they walk

over the human footprints the dreamer made last night.