Flowers Of The Moon
The moon rocked in its cradle
hunched down on its paws
reluctant to rise
while the sharpened stars stared
and ice fell like blades
on the night she was born.
She wanted flowers,
hands to hold, a round-
bellied pony with liquid eyes
but they gave her knives, so
she learned to juggle.
There was plenty of work.
"Stand back." she said,
"I could put out your eye easy
as breathing. I could and I might."
The moon crept up to
the crossroads.The stars fell asleep.
The knives rose and spun
whirled and glittered like
blue ice flying
til one by one they fell
from her scarred hands.
"I've no time for this trade," she said,
"where every mistake bleeds,
where every hit frightens.
The moon needs a gardener
for roses to grow."
March 2022
posted for
Images; Sunset at the North Pole, author unknown, Fair Use
Girl Juggling Knives, unknown source via Sunday Muse, Fair Use
