The Moon's Song
I am the mother of pearl
mirror, incandescence, a thousand burnishing centres
smoothing scattered horses over the willow plain.
I am the deciduous dusk succulent as a gioconda
ocean's ebb and flow altering passion and place
powder drops on a near, dear-blue sea.
Foam speckled water feeds like a lover
the dolphin, the seahorse and the cuttle.
At dawn the owl prowls
in the wood
sleep blossoming on his eyelids like illumination
the edges of the forest glisten.
All is up now and clear, day is an emerald forgetting.
Dark returns, descends among salt marsh seas
petals of star scatter seeds to open the heart.
I have a husband, a husband who is feathered and white
and oh, he sings to me, sings to me in the fern dark wood.
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