Holding the moon's eye <br /> through fluid silver wings <br /> we arrive <br /> with the one conical answer <br /> burring angles into a circle <br /> Reaching the sky <br /> I do not wonder how <br /> to deeper know you <br /> The sphere of seasons <br /> unfold Firmaments <br /> against a single blade of grass.<br /><br />Ann Creer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/avatar-5/
