WOMAN OF THE MOON by Mide Benedict

My thoughts are cold
Fetch me some fire wood
From the woman of the moon
I heard she got the tree of memory!

I heard she cut the tree of memory!
And on her head they dwell
Log by log.
Let me burn my mind in antique
Thoughts, let its smoke fill my cold feel
With warm and translucent expression.
Only the night can get me this....
Stretch forth your hand
Grab them for me,
Gentle night, find the moon....

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