Thursday, January 13, 2011

Maybe the Moon

Maybe the Moon


Difficult times, skip ropes 
and pigtails eroded in the breath
of a dog-face-afternoon.

Maybe the moon
will come closer
to whatever intelligent life

is left in our dwindling
universe and your wind
will blow in my direction

pure like the blood that runs
through the gates of heaven,
the deep color of clay.

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