The Perspective of the Reflector
I sat in the curve of the toenail moon,
my legs dangling over the inky blue and
my feet swinging to the rhythm of a tune
heard only in my head.
As I turned my gaze to the earth below,
I watched the darkness chase the light—
or was it the other way ’round?—
across its bulging belly,
playing hide-and-seek with time.
The lunar daisies nodded in the cello wind
as I swung a straddling leg over the thin blade
of the golden crescent,
settling back into its glowing chaise and
popping glittering stones of green cheese
into my laughing mouth.