A half-moon hangs in my cupboard
like the letter D.
Askew in silvery desire,
it becomes an amber barley draught,
bowl of orange tea,
solitary untouched breast
or ancestral skull
while an old yellow watchdog prowls
its nocturnal trail to the rooster.
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
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Jnana's Red Barn 
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