Alexej von Jawlensky (1919)
I have no head for stars; their numeracy
confounds, but there were once more
when, as a child, I had eyes for the count.
Now I see the moon, a death’s head grin,
Low, blurry around the edges.
Perhaps it is a failing streetlamp.
Or a spaceship, capsized,
and a very long way from home.
Micro Poetry ~ And the Moon is the Sunday Mini-Challenge in the Imaginary Garden