Canal side conversation

You coot carrier,
fish keeper,
bike sinker

reflection tricker,
you're a circus mirror
a loose corrugation,

tongue of water,
punctuated by swans' necks;
question marks, floating

downstream in the near dark,
closer than the moon's
yellowed jealousy.

Like ghost ships,
they appear
in the candle quivers

that line the bank
like little lighthouses
and keep my feet

from treading your waters.