by Victoria Clayton Munn
In the deepest consciousness of you
darkness prevails and I wonder
at the side of the road as you change
the twentieth flat tire -
-
if you remember I’m there, your hair
misted with road dirt and dew
head bent against cold metal
ratchet over and over the bolts
that will fix our way home.
-
You finish, and I see your oil colored eyes
flash as you realize you need to take care
and the darkness grows deep inside you
a growl pitches low in your throat, primal,
the moon rises above the trees and I see -
-
you full of light and wonder change deep inside
sprout hair glistening silver and teeth ivory
and I run, knowing, that no matter how much you
love me there is no love when a full moon rises.
About the Author
Victoria Clayton Munn wrote her first book at age six, and shows no signs of stopping. She is a writer and poet who has been published in various online and print ‘zines, including Poor Mojo’s Almanac(k), Right Hand Pointing, Boston Literary Magazine, decomP and more – as well as a chapbook “Two Lips”. She lives near Albany NY with her husband and daughter. Visit her here.
©2009 Victoria Clayton Munn
