My sister, Cyberspace Sarah, is giving birth as we speak. She was not at Target as she feared, but in her very own home, so all’s well that ends well on that one particular front.
WHITE MOON comes in on a baby face.
The shafts across her bed are flimmering.
Out on the land White Moon shines,
Shines and glimmers against gnarled shadows,
All silver to slow twisted shadows
Falling across the long road that runs from the house.
Keep a little of your beauty
And some of your flimmering silver
For her by the window to-night
Where you come in, White Moon.