Full
It’s after cats but before owls.
The moon fills its pockets and hangs
Out behind the house next door.
Like the sky’s a comfortable side street
You can ride a skateboard or bike along
And find a new favorite skipping stone
You’ll hold onto until the next time
At the creek, which will be days from now
And you think of the curve of her shoulder
As she threw and the water was too
Respectful to swallow the stone, the
Three steps it took on the water and the click
Of it coming to rest on the other bank
And like that you’re rising, full of someone
Else’s light, up above the neighborhood
And the whole world can see you now,
Like the sun on her shoulder,
The whole world can see.
Beautiful. I wish to share this, Jeff. Hope you don’t mind.
Thanks, Len.
My pleasure.
Lovely
Happy Easter, poet.
I nominate you my favorite male poet over the age of 21 for the year 2018. heh.
Seriously, just my plain ol favorite. What a lovely shoulder you painted.
Over 51, you said? Thanks!