baited fishhook moon

trolls the thin matter of twilight


one eyelid of light

one slit scale on the fin of dawn


dangling like a silk chemise,

across the back of the night’s chair


little sawyer moon,

little snag-edge librating in river’s bed


snares from the current’s umbra                   

a kiss from those luminous lips


a falcated honesty

rising in the aureola of day


like Eos unable to sleep with him

on her mind


by Ann Dernier 

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