Lunar Cycles

A Sonnet

Man had cycled round the moon by your time.
Why does our nature bleed? The questions begs
the bird on her nest, why do you lay eggs?
Does nature choose forbidden fruit sublime?
I picked you up from school, we got ice cream,
I had told you this would happen some day,
that these cramps were a special kind of pain
made of the creation of all our dreams.
I think Eve’s choice was libertarian,
Sisyphean boulders pregnant bulges
shops where such sweet baby clothes are folded
as wholesome vultures feed on carrion.
	The mys’try of cycles writ in the moon
	makes me happy that I shared this with you.