THE MASTERPIECE: LIGHT PINK MOON, FULL Poem by Gerrit Kouwenaar

For the first time in years the moon's hung
again like a fruit in the air

where was one all that while
and what did one do elsewhere and better

this night to etherealize art
and lie on ground is sufficient

thus as if blind with one deaf hand
on the hungrily paid-out senses

one devours the crickets the night wind the world, this
can't be fancied, no notion, all's

fit in its skin beneath the light rose moon, full
formed absolute inedible peach -