On a frosty night
in fuzzy sweater
sleeves suddenly short
a boy gathers the moon
through lenses
in the driveway,
counting craters
while a cat purrs
unfelt
against his legs.
Unnoticed
from the porch
I, too,
rub his ankles
while his eyes
seek light.
2/5/85
© Copyright 1985 by Joe CottonwoodNext: Question