CLOAKS

You once had one of many colours
And you had dreams.
Though agriculture wasn't your bag
You looked deep futurewise
Beyond the bends in the river,
The eels, the slimy things,
The mud left by the tide,
And out into a predictive sea.


Now I don't know of your oracular powers.
Your cloak has changed -
An invisibility,
And perhaps this means the powers are gone,
Or perhaps the greater power is in flow,
Blending with the river's changing hues
Going with the tide,
Ebbing, flowing.