Moon Speaks
In
the rhyme, the cow jumps over me,
her
udder wagging a milk milk rain.
A
blasted cat saws music on a violin.
A
little mongrel snickers, a dish elopes
with
a piece of flatware. It’s not easy
being
confined by nursery twaddle.
Know
who I am.
I
pull and the sea rises to meet. Gulls,
pelicans
fly low, looking for a quick
fish,
schools of plenty. On the other
side
of Earth, oceans swell, expand,
strain
to escape gravity. What push-
pull
there is in me. What tit for tat.
I’m
that urge that dissolves, as butter
slides,
into nooks and crannies of a break-
fast
crumpet, its tiny hollows designed
to
net desires. If you like, smear with
raspberry,
cherry, currant jams. Eat.
Delicious
with tea and cream.
Come.
Slip
into my blue-tinted shadows, into
the
fable of you. Whisper spider web
riddles
and water spells, read messages
in
wet stones. Count your unborn grand-
children
in the lines of your palm.
Mornings,
wash your face in the dew,
find
luminous new ways to be.
Hope’s
a white kitten chasing its tail.
Look.
A
pale rose sprouts between your brows.
Poem copyright cathy larson sky 2019
Photo credits:
Photo by chuttersnap on Unsplash The full yellow mooon
Photo by michael podger on Unsplash The spider web
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash The rose
