Opal Moon

Laura Lush
From:   Blues & True Concussions: Six New Toronto Poets. Anansi, 1997.

Opal moon,
beatific moon.

Bigamist among
the shuddering stars.

Carry this old earth,
cradle the lakes and trees.

Rub your mint throat across deer.

Come quickly, come quietly,
the animals are retreating.

The fox, the hare, the speckled bands
of snakes. Slowly, slowly,
undulating south.

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