Outsider

Outsiders must learn this river’s code. Today the sun will be shrouded but the bare bodied men at water’s edge know when it is time.
Nothing can stop their moment. A conch. They raise water in their palms and hail the rising they cannot see. Their voices carry the day.
One of them is doing something expansive with a cupped flame. Their call makes light of sludgy steps.
It has gone up through tree and temple to rouse once-forgiving streets. This call you remember from story books was raised in war against infidels.
Now it so inflames piety outsiders must learn to lie low.