Insomnia I: Snowmoon

come, it is midnight
at snowmoon

the comet sneaks its green tail
through the house of lions

white eclipse
in my eyes the size of pints
spins the spheres
in glassy cycles of love

my feet
bury their naked toes
in oak leaves, as presence
with tree
stretches muscles to join
the moondark swirl-
that breaks above

come, then, my friends,
to smoke messages
that send gifts to flying hearts
who need some solid ground


it is STAR that happens
when a forest lifts its bed for us
to meet the chaotic night


(c) J. Celan Smith