The Lunar Lake

By | 1 July 1997

The moon’s riddled Earth day
carried above black trees
puzzles birds into trilling,
makes beetles fly their cars.

The lake on the dark side
of that world is airless steel;
its dry plate never records
our brushstrokes of re-entry

but it’s patent to the mind
in its floodlit drink-quarries,
a crater-cast golden with dirt,
a Hubble lens of white settlers

This entry was posted in 01: UNTHEMED and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related work:

Comments are closed.