Evolution
Evolution
by john penn
The moon was a she and I was some vulnerable kid,
cold beneath a sliver of wash-worn sheet
in a new house with no curtains.
I could see the pond out in back
where the moon shown still on the surface
and some fortunate fish burrowed deep in the black mud,
out of which some ill-fated creature once crawled
and ended up becoming loneliness.
Right on. I love this. I feel the fish, man.