Sunday, November 7, 2021


 Moon Needle

The moon has effaced itself into a sliver.

It reminds me of a suture needle

Dangling in the gray matte dusk.

It’s big enough for gorges and gaping 

Canyons and unstable tectonic faults.

But the earth just scoffs

Enduring as ever, unfixed.

We have plenty of walking wounded

Who have spent lives spooling thread

Just waiting for a chance to get stitched.


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