in the southern part
of the sky
the moon is a lozenge
too big to suck on
and the kitchen light
is yellow
and comes through
a cobwebbed window.
The cobweb throbs
like a sign.
In the canyon
beyond the yard
small, gray rabbits
twerk to the tunes
of the sparrows
who make music
in the branches
overhead. tomorrow
there'll be time enough
for redemption.
No comments:
Post a Comment