Julie’s Moon

(Pantoum)
For Julie Brokken

In the high desert the moon rises, brushing against the linen sky,
and follows the path of a battered Toyota
piled high with belongings. A travelling nest:
Rocks and feathers, driftwood, gypsy dresses, dragonflies.

It follows the path of battered Toyota.
She is here to make her home, to spread her gifts:
rocks and feathers, driftwood, gypsy dresses, dragonflies,
a lovely clutter of assorted hopes, pain, and dreams.

She is here to make her home, to spread her gifts
laid out like old bones bleached with moonlight,
a lovely clutter of assorted hopes, pain and dreams.
Gazing up, a beautiful nomad wrapped in a batik quilt.

She is laid out like old bones bleached with moonlight.
The moon on the mountains is like a woman dressing.
Gazing up, a beautiful nomad wrapped in a batik quilt,
hem lifted, encircled by a gauzy skirt of clouds.

The moon on the mountains is like a woman dressing,
piled high with belongings: a travelling nest.
Hem lifted, encircled by a gauzy skirt of clouds,
in the high desert the moon rises, brushing against the linen sky.

Published in Fixed & Free Anthology