Periodicity His reign concluded as it began: A king’s blood loosed on the courtyard stones In the kingdom of the invader The servants of the exiled prince Uncurtained an empty bed War gongs and conch calls The churned lake left a red film on shore But in time the prayers and tears, too, subsided Merchants went to market The reservoirs were filled The golden gates and towers start to rise Our tuk-tuk puttered past stands of trees Where barefoot women swept up loose brush And dropped us by the path to a temple Invaded by silk-cotton trees With roots like a serpent’s folds Cracked gods and tipped walls We tracked sounds of a string band to a far court The players all had lost limbs to land mines Girls in gold-trimmed dresses Danced their stately dance From the cloisters, kids in third-hand clothes looked on The spray of chandelier light on stone A jazz quintet and an open bar Stone lions at the foot of the stairwell Wore top hats made of wire and scrim We dined in an open court Starlight and champagne The tech fund had had a bad spring But by August, some bets paid off We sat down with light hearts And when the dancing ended And we went out to catch a cab Across the square, the great glass towers rise ...