The double moon, one on the high back drop of the west, one on the curve of the river face, The sky moon of fire and the river moon of water, I am taking these home in a basket, hung on an elbow, such a teeny weeny elbow, in my head. I saw them last night, a cradle moon, two horns of a moon, such an early hopeful moon, such a childβs moon for all young hearts to make a picture of. The riverβI remember this like a pictureβthe river was the upper twist of a written question mark. I know now it takes many many years to write a river, a twist of water asking a question. And white stars moved when the moon moved, and one red star kept burning, and the Big Dipper was almost overhead.