YOU ARE A DOOR FOR ME

You are a door for me where I lean into the moon

listening for a voice made of water.

A voice can be an oak leaf floating down the irrigation ditch

a green hand with fingers spread wide to catch the light.

The moon can be held in a spoonful of water

or in the right eye of a monkey or in a drop of blood.

Tonight the moon is ripening in our cherry tree

and the voice I listen for is yours

come home to me.

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