.................................
Hungry Sky
.................................

When the moon is wan as bread,
when stars are pale as crumbs
that scatter on dark carpet, fed
to any insect child that comes

across the hungry sky, I flee
on wings of cobweb dust. I trip
on six small legs, and carefully
I stroke your brow to take a sip

of you. Oh, you are fine as rare
currants; your tender veins are blue
as flight's delights. The garden air
is warm and only smells of you.

.................................
Karen Tellefsen
.................................

 
Copyright © Karen Tellefsen
March 1997

...a poem in in this room by Ray Heinrich...
the moon over the sea of japan
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