About Stars And Other Memories Poem by Cristina M. Moldoveanu

on my bedroom's window I draw a blue bird
for it should fly only when the night begins
on my house wall a scythe with baby teeth
for it should rise over the moon when the wheat grows ripe
on the worn stone at my door sill a foamy sea
like white lace on the church's altar table
and it feels as if for a century
I blindly waited
to be sewn in the corner of my eye
where a pouch full of light has been growing