| As I lay there 'pon the man-made cloud |
| in the middle of the night |
| the music of the forlorn crickets |
| drifted in from the outside. |
| In my lap lay a white fool moon |
| with scraps on porcelain. |
| and on the floor sat my dog on haunches |
| she was begging again. |
| Yet it sat regally- its nose pointed at me |
| while its eyes cut through the air, |
| when its instincttook over and its body quite hovered |
| in a jump for what had to be there. |
| But alas that lonely sorrowful night |
| had been fated for peace and silence, |
| so God intervened as the plate shattered and fell- |
| with my dog also quiet and lifeless. |
Copyright ©2001 Ashi Shadow