Puppet X,17 Poem by Jerry Ratch
Puppet X,17
17
Clouds float past
the local moon
Somebody opens
an old wooden door
in the night
The lights go out
They come back on
And you say it's
only the wind?
The North rolls up
on the horizon
“We shall see
We shall see”
I could let that bother me
The moon is back
again
We can't
be sure…
Who we are -
Don...?
Don't remember
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4/24/2024 1:49:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
