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Moon |
She trawls the taut waters, all snake-eyed charm,
till her quick tongue flickers and darts;
flashes its silver through the pond-weed dark
as a minnow on hook bites home.
See her pale brow curve and the starlight gleam
in the chaos of her mole-black eye;
hear her mouth move mountains, stir up dreams,
and her moth breath flies them free.
Where she walks aloof the flecked tide turns
and the salt sand suckles her white toes;
wolf-like, in her wake, pads her slender-nosed
hound whose six eyes dance and burn.
Now she sings the midnight to her fishy friends
where the narrow nets slice deep. But the foreshore,
is home to her clear-eyed crab whose great claw
brings the stars where she commands.
copyright 2010
Abigail
Wyatt |
