My cat
Though small
Is a
Mighty hunter.

Often trophies
She left
On my door
From her nightly stalking.

A robin that
Will never fly
Trilling couplets
In cloud stained skies.

A mouse that will
Never scurry
In the wood-grain walls.
Chanting lays
About the stacking of
Heroic cheese.

On a dark night
When i heard
My cat’s claws
Scratching entry upon
The rude squared door.

“Let me in…”
The claws implored
“To the stone
Hewn hearth
Where the wisp
Of a flame does crackle.
Where a bowl
Of warm milk
Waits for me
To pay for my cat chores…”

“Enough my cat”
i am simple
Imagine my surprise
As i open my door.
To find the moon
Shriveled on my
Porches threshold.

The moon
With two
Auspicious bite marks
on it corners.

The moon
Belongs to everyone
Luckily i had
Some bandages
And dandelion oil
To clean and wrap
The poor moon wounds.

The moon sang to me
In this blessed fortnight
Of times in deep history
Before the bards.
When she shinned
Above the lands of man.
Like ghostly jewel among the stars.

Before the woods
Had written elegies
in leaf of their limbs.  
Before fire deluge
Burned cracks in the walls
Leaving kiln marks
Upon the mountain castles
In the kingdoms of forgotten kings
And unknown peoples.

i nursed the moon
With tea of thousand wild flowers
And the dew that dripped
Upon the crimson skin
Of gleaming strawberries.
How the petals floated
On surface of my teacup.