A River of Paper Boats

A river of paper boats
A river of balls
A river of pins
A river of yellow leaves
The roar of the inky-black
storm drain

Water down the plug hole
Is the blood that beats the heart of The Noble House,
FAR FAR BELOW,
The wheel is the clock,
The clock turns the sun,
The sun is in love with the moon,
But they may never meet,
Opposing sides of the same water-wheel. A parity for we may never
Reach the house: Its like a forest at night,
This riddle of pipes,
The Gateway
Between here and there. The pipes are full of water,
The waters filled with sound,
And you can hear them
Working miles underground.