The Old Moon

Free verse

THE OLD MOON

 

The old moon
crawls toward the softness
of the belly of
the upturned pond gently
nudging her into position,
entering from the east, caressing
her moist ringlets.

Indolent cattails and
willows stir
along the liquid rim.

Little by little
the watery heaving
of the small ponds ebb and flow-
    more minute
    than the cry of a small bird-
restores the moon to circular clarity. It
scans the horizon of
milkweed and thistledown and
wanders off into
the canicular sphere
to the cantata of
tiny frogs and and things...