Phases

A mild clear night

after a warm day

of genuine Spring.

Down the front steps

I’m accompanied 

by one of my cats.

Our street is quiet,

the three-quarter moon

high in the eastern sky.

Under my arm I carry

a bundle of old papers

for the recycle bin.

Brave Andrew!

He has thrown out

all his student notes.

He is in a waning phase

already, reducing 

his circumference.

My slimming program

is succeeding, but

now my curves grow fuller.

In the moonlit garden

the tomatoes end

and the cacti plump.

Journalling my relationship with the moon: 11