December Moon Oak moon, reed moon— our friend called; she was telling the pain what to think. I said Look. If you relax you'll get better. Better? who wants better, said a moonbeam under the wire, the soul is light’s hypotenuse; the lily’s logic is frozen fire—
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December Moon Suppose you are the secret of the shore—a strong wave lying on its side— you’d come to earth again (as if joy’s understudy would appear) & you could live one more bold day without meaning to, afresh, on winter's piney floor; you say, I’ve been to the door & wept; it says, what door
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"December Moon," from Practical Water, © 2010 by Brenda Hillman. Used by permission of Wesleyan University Press.