and the moon is waxing
but that doesn’t matter
what does matter is that my daughter
comes out to look at the sky
with me says there you are
when she spies me down by the garden
where we see the last membrane of light
wrap the lips of the distant olympics
she doesn’t stay long i don’t either
sometimes the eternal does not need
much time to wash our fluttering eyelids—
our metronome valves swishing
oceanthick with as much blood
as we can swallow
Lovely magic moment
ReplyDelete