Blood Moon

prepare for the monster
in two sleeps he comes

empty your cupboards
find the biggest pot
the widest pan
one of each

tear two strips of cotton
roll and wad them
one for each ear canal

gather outside just before moonrise
and when her pale orb appears
on the horizon
bring the pans together
with all the force of your soul

let the clatter fill the night sky
so that the monster relents
and does not devour

so we may, for once be
a celestial savior to 
she who turns our tide




[Poem #13 --- for National Poetry Month. The Blood Moon will be Monday night....]