In a Way



I didn't expect – a half inch moon

                                                                        making up the difference.

Yet before all of that we (and by “we” I mean I)

                                                                                 watched the sun set

through the ears of a three-legged rabbit.

                                                                                                  In a way

the first time the fuzz

                                                               of his inner ear turned mango

is the first time we made


We've told that story before.

                                                   You ask for it every night when I go

to bed facing east, when I fall

                                                                      asleep on the right side

of the bed, when we sew the verge

                                                                   between what-if and was

and now. The Night Sky

                                                                                petunias tremble

in the backwash of the hungry three-legged rabbit.

                                                                                             In a way

you held me. This way.