Clear Night for Ursa Minor

Golden honeysuckle sits
at the creekbed’s edge.
You stand, arms crossed, under
the blue-black cover of sky.

You wait, watch. You map
out the night, tracing a line
in the red clay with bare toes.

Zebra finches in the brush
chatter and flap wings,
leaving you and the moon.

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Published in: on September 23, 2010 at 11:25 pm  Comments (4)  
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