shannp@sprynet.com 

Moon Magic

the crescent slash of white
splits whole galaxies
as far as I can see

from here the mountain is
molehill across the valley
porch lights twinkle
breezes blowing them on and off
by dancing branches across window panes
and halogens on high poles.

you're a shadow on a swing
in the playground
I'm a star cast apart by an ocean
coast to coast wheatfields
altitudes and topography
but the moon belongs
to the eyes that see.

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