Thursday, February 21, 2013

Morning Walk – Looking for Sister Moon

Crossing the bridge -
Cold wind blowing, 
Colder than a witch’s titty,
I searched the southern sky
For Sister Moon – 
Mas ella nao estava.
   (But she wasn't there.)

The breaking rays of daylight 
Illuminate the face of the chapel 
At the top of the hill.
Arlington National Cemetery.

I can hear Brother Wilfred’s prayer,
Howling through the wind:

“We are the dead
Short days ago we lived
Saw dawn, felt sunset glow…”

This morning, though, I bathe
In sunrise glow, without, without
My sister, Sister Moon.

And the river. Tide is low.  
The beach is exposed, muddy
Muddy, muddy everywhere,
And lined with ice. White crunchy 
Puddles, puddles, everywhere.

A thin icy film on the surface 
Holds the river together.  Geese
Are still, and flocked, and still
Along the shore.  If think if I 
Could fly I’d be away from here.  

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