Moon Struck Poem by Sheena Blackhall

I remember
The moon, sharp as a scythe, on my wedding night
The moon snagged in clouds when my father died
The moon that lit the tree where an owl rested
The moon that lay on her wings as she wheeled in flight
The moon in my cat's eyes as she stepped through grass
The moon wearing a caul, when the terrible blizzard raged
The moon on the dropping dew, an enchanted sight
The moon on the river, floating in silver cups
The moon in the silence striking the coffin lid
The moon on the field of corn, a beacon of white
The moon like a crystal ball, trapping a long face
The moon pulling the tides like a fishing net
The moon on the backs of dolphins, glinting bright