An Arm of the Night

An arm of the night
came gliding through my window

A long dark arm
with bracelets of water

Over the blue water of the river
my soul was playing

While on the clock
the wounded moments
slipped away

I don't know who wrote this. I found it in the file of old poems from which I have recently been resurrecting stuff. It could very well be mine. How else could it have got there? I don't remember writing this. But I like it. (Could this be Edna O'Brian's?, or Marty Singleton's...