Friday, May 24, 2019

















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 Jonathan Pielmayer on Unsplash   The jam on toast
Photo by michael podger on Unsplash   The spider web
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash  The rose