untitled

the moon has captured me
by the ankles, is
crawling through me
and I must burst
into new surfaces

this morning my hands
awoke, and for the first
time in years, ached
to find something other
than air beside them

but even without
the solid press of
your arm on mine, I
have found wonder in this
upended cup of stars

© Sarah Whiteley

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escaping spiders

one by one the moths
find their way into the building,
lose themselves in high corners
and dingy stairwells

cupping my hands I
usher what few I can off
the fire escape, blowing them
to whatever dusty fate is theirs

but more often find stilled
wings, unmoving corpses along
the baseboards beneath
the hallway lights

I think they know there’s
no moon here, but flock
to false incandescence for scant
safety in a poor substitute

but how else
does one escape the spiders?

© Sarah Whiteley

a fragrant moon
    
floats
          a thousand petals
     more
          ghosts of flowers

shine
     pale lotus skiff
          drifts
     past silver laden
          shore
    
greening reeds
      wait
in wake bow
      low

the fishes kiss
     folds
           of moon’s watery
     train

© Sarah Whiteley