Moon dips
into a saucer
one night
when pockmarks trail
scout squadron footsteps
single file
wandering almost sidewalkways
to bars
where cards play gamblers
tv's watch sports fans
beverages spirit drinkers
hushed

were the moon below
we could stomp pocks
onto our saucer of white
to mirror
moon to moon
craters
mincing
poof by poof
our framing Sea of Cyclops

About the Author: Robert Ponte reads his lyrics at Sweetwaters Cafe. Singer/harpist Laurel Federbush performed several of Robert’s lyrics at Sweetwaters Cafe; recordings can be played on Ann Arbor Alive’s wWb site: http://www.annarboralive.com/A3Radio/AltRadio.php. If you would like to contact Robert, you can reach him at rponteesq@sbcglobal.net.