Blue moons, feet, fossils

the blue moon
curled up in the sky
and whispered
'no more going to the dark side with your flying saucer eyes'

A hundred feet.
crawling on your skin
like love.
or sex. or rain.
you're no worm.
a memory packed up and salted
like sardines in a tin can
These moments that are talismans and treasure.
these moments once moved like fingers.


Anonymous said...

love your work, you are gifted.

Hari Potter said...

Did you write that? It's beautiful.

TaChi said...

neat and very well written...abstract too

Shutterfly said...

yup. wrote it. thankoo