april 15th 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 Scott Ferry helps our Veterans heal as a RN in the Seattle area. His third book of poetry, These Hands of Myrrh, is upcoming from Kelsay Books. You can find more of his work at ferrypoetry.com .
Like the title says.