08 March 2013

In that minute

on that morning
the Elizabethan Serenade
floated from the living room across the lawn
to where I sat
observing the hydrangea and the high
fingernail crescent moon
white in the blue sky.

Rainbows splayed from the sprinkler-hea
like  the spout-hole of a whale
surfacing to breathe.

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