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
