from the farmers almanac
the early may moon rises over the lake
our lake
the one radclyff and i pretend
no one knows about - but us
the lake where we saw each other's reflections
in the wake of slow going sail boats
¡ahoy!, our flower moon rises
with the dandelions
said radclyff over the edge of our canoe
to a procession of passing ducks
2 comments:
What sayeth the ducks?
As of late, the night renders a re eye each evening upon us. You know how it is when smoke gets in your eye, no?
that's "red eye"
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