WEBVTT

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"The Prediction."

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"That night, the moon drifted
over the pond turning the water

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to milk.

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And under the bowels of
the trees, the blue trees,

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a young woman walked.

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And for an instant,
the future came to her.

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Rain falling on her
husband's grave, rain falling

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on the lawns of her children,
her own mouth filling

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with cold air, strangers
moving into her house.

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A man in her room
writing a poem.

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The moon drifting into it.

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A woman strolling under its
trees thinking of death,

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thinking of him,
thinking of her.

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And the wind rising
and taking the moon

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and leaving the paper dark."

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