The View from Abby's
The moon is a big fat wheel of blue cheese and we sit and laugh under it
Mostly we let it hang
Rest
Sometimes we tend to it
and doing so is a great deal of work
Twenty nine and a half days and twenty nine and a half nights
I looked into everyone's big fresh eyes and I looked at my own, too
Above us the moon was morphing
There were moments of decay
Vivid color so unnatural in appearance it could only be natural
Brightness that betrayed itself Revealed to be reflection
It's a transformation but it's something I've known before soon the moon was again a wheel
I sit at Abby's and the sun sets and the evening sings!
My belly is full
This is a thin place
A June bug summits my knee
I look to the moon. Stewards unto each other
I lick the mold from my fingertips. We are beaming
