Alice Miller

Rookie (03/14/95 / England)

Luna - Poem by Alice Miller

Thick calls
haunt the ghosting birch's
of the woods,
drunk on moon-shine,
sobered by sun-light....

Who are you?
She calls, her
pincher beak not
unlike deep sea creatures
never captured, never found.

She calls to the moon again-
Who are you?
No answer,
craters shift,

She saunters off, the
wind her guide,
feathers soundless,
and the leaves rustle.
She catch's her prey,
ask' Do you know?

Still no answer,
she pecks.

She staggers,
a lord caught
on mutton and wheat beer,
and fog swirls,
carching star-light in
the tip of
it's gossamer scarf,
like dust.

Dawn breaks,
and she schleps
back to the nest.

Still no

Comments about Luna by Alice Miller

  • (8/5/2008 9:01:00 AM)

    Wonderful imagery. Chilling atmosphere. Good poem - enjoyed. HG: -) xx (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Poem Edited: Wednesday, August 6, 2008

[Report Error]