Rhymes for a Watertower

A town so flat a grave's a hill, A dusk the color of beer. A row of schooldesks shadows fill, A row of houses near. A courthouse spreading to its lawn, A bank clock's lingering heat. A gleam of storefronts not quite gone, A courthouse in the street. A different element, almost, A dry creek brimming black. A light to lure the darkness close, A light to keep it back. A time so still a heart's a sound, A moon the color of skin. A pumpjack bowing to the ground, Again, again, again.