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On the Night of the New Moon
by ellen

There is a pulling
A young woman is ready
She counts out almonds
Holds them in her palm
Peels bark form a low branch
Crushes it over the almonds

A man appears
The woman unfolds her legs
The man penetrates
He turns away
In the half-moon
Summer lies down on the valley

A harvest moon fills with cool air
Fingers know the gathering song
Oval after oval
Hard rain shreds almond leaves
The woman drinks alone
From a dark well

Winter's new moon
No light, no warmth
A lover's memory
Essence of bitter almond
In an hour
There will be movement











 


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