baited fishhook moon

trolls the thin matter of twilight

 

one eyelid of light

one slit scale on the fin of dawn

 

dangling like a silk chemise,

across the back of the night’s chair

 

little sawyer moon,

little snag-edge librating in river’s bed

 

snares from the current’s umbra                   

a kiss from those luminous lips

 

a falcated honesty

rising in the aureola of day

 

like Eos unable to sleep with him

on her mind

 

by Ann Dernier 

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