Wednesday, December 01, 2010

Michael Keshigian: THE MOON

just hung there
slightly above the horizon
donning a wry smile
against darkened backdrop

its anemic white garb
resembled a freshly cut fingernail
found on the black desktop.
I tossed my cap

towards its lower point,
beyond reach of the trees,
landing it gracefully
like a Frisbee on a finger,

how did the cow jumped over
this slightly cocked glow
without bumping its head

on the unseen portion?
The iridescent float winked
to share such sport
but startled I turned

to watch the cat
play the fiddle
till the dish came home
with the spoon.

Copyright Michael Keshigian. Reprinted here by kind permission of the author.

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