Monday, April 6, 2015


Since Li Po died the Moon
Has not been the same.
She wanders; she repeats herself;
She rides to market
On her tattered broom
As if she were an ordinary witch.

Since Li Po died his shadow
Has rarely been sober
Three cats have made a pact
To support him. They bring him
Green wine and fish heads.

Since Li Po died Li Po
Has meant to comfort the Moon
To visit his shadow
To thank the cats
But keeps being distracted.

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