The Crab Claws Of The Moon Poem by Mark Heathcote
The Crab Claws Of The Moon
The crab claws of the moon held my breath
In its pincers, I am all out of breath
And nearing death, because I loved her/you
—I'm chronologically wiser than are you
Said the wan moon loves me instead:
I can just as well make your eiderdown bed.
She has on my onyx complexion:
But your hearts lead feather shall fall from her bed
And never reach the floor—when all is said.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 12:00:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
