"August Moon."
This moon forming round on its left side.
Waxing moon of my birth month.
No astrology in this.
Simply recording the passage of a moon.
The passing month passing a year in my life.
I discover I was born 113 years to the hour
after the death of William Blake.
A poet I admire, friends tell me, for all the wrong reasons.
The moon rising in the East, red at first,
now yellow, soon white will circle the sky to the South
while I sleep.
It will move at a height of 10 o'clock and fade in morning.
October.
The moon rises.
And I am in Moscow.
31 years old 31 times as the earth tilts
to the tropic and returns.
31 circles of a silent moon saying snake, woman, fire,
thief, moon.