The clouds masking mystic
makes the moon gaze strabismic.
One eye, the red one,
ignites the dry sun;
the other, the right,
puts out the blue night.
Rain still falls gently, so why
the blind burning of sky?
Sinlight's cochineal beams,
bright as your dagger voice in dreams,
are hot as the cellar of murder.
55 blinking wet eyelashes for the g-man
Photo © joyannjones 2012