(res(ent moons
(res(ent moons are for wishing, she told me
A new tiny rip in the sky letting
a just of light through is a (hance. . . for something
Day slips into her festive darkness. . .
Somewhere a ripe dream is sagging
and a gloved hope is rea(hing up
to plu(k
© 1998 J.Kevin Wolfe, all rights reserved
appears here by permission
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