A Poem from my Moonbaby!

This ring signifies love, a star captured,

brought down to earth to rest upon my hand

as if angels sang in a heavenly choir,

robes swishing about like sails on a boat,

a boat in a harbor in Italy perhaps, the gondoliers

singing of loves won and lost, the stripes of the zebra

contrasting with the dusty plain, how it runs upon

the Kansas tornado that blows away homes

and trees and cars, while night settles in a forest,

owls hooting to a beautiful opal moon

on an October harvest of golden wheat ripened,

ready to become the bread of many

while others, hungry, wither and die become

walking bones. I look at the x-ray with the doctor

who must tell my friend she has breast cancer

and must sacrifice one of her breasts

to continue living. I question what is femininity

as I watch the lace fan a woman holds,

back and forth through the hot humid air,

white glove swishing across her man’s face

the declaration of hatred and of war—

the games men play that cause blood

to run red, like blood oranges lying on the table

cut open, untouched.