Moonlit Chowder Poem by Mark Heathcote

Moonlit chowder cooking on the stove
I don't need fish, clams,
Or corn, potatoes or onions.
Throw me just a starlit stone
A cooking bowl for bones, so I can at least feed.
Moonlit chowder, I'm almost starved
But I can see a silver lining, I think
A star in the East has promise, I'm told.
Moonlit chowder, I volunteer to thirst
And still burst like a lily flower
And turn eventually to gold and poetry.
Moonlit chowder; has I wandered too long,
Too many years that I no longer care
To hear any fake expressionless news
But at least I'm not in the dark.
Moonlit chowder lets me eat and drink
Something is fulfilling for you
And me, I think.