Monday, February 9, 2009

He's back...and knackered

Maybe he's getting old - he is eight this year. For he was home after a mere eleven hours of running through the crusted snow. I was downstairs knitting while Ron read when I thought I heard him. Put down my knitting went to the backdoor and there he was. He came in all chagrinned and went right to his bed.

I slept downstairs for various reasons and awoke at three-thirty to see the moon torching in on me. I could lie with my head on my pillow and see her riding the sky through the trees. I gazed at her feeling the moon-madness, that I might get up and wander outside in her light. I thought how it was thought at some time, and perhaps still somewhere, that to lie in the light of the moon was to invite insanity - luna-cy. Well then let me be mad! I knew there was an eclipse at about five but couldn't stay awake any longer...

To she who rides fatly in the night sky

You had to go and wake me up you greedy thing
Desirous of my gaze
I could fill you up with admiration
But you are already so full of sun that you couldn't take one
More drop of golden love.

I'll offer some when you are thin and hungry.

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