Sunday, February 21, 2010

with ease

i lift the moon
with my hands
and hold it up
into the cold
night air. it's
a silver bowl of
stars that i've
come to know and
possess with a sweet
sad wonder on these
nights i live alone.
i haven't
conquered much,
but this i have,
this moon, this
pen and blank sheet
of paper on which
to write.

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