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'a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently 
came to keep them company 
and listen to their talk.'
— Kenneth Grahame 

That night you swaddled in my arms, 
                                                              the dahlias were in their wilt 
                                                                                                    — blotches of yellow and brown 
took the laterals, their florets giving way to pods. 
                         The Cyprus pines formed a phalanx on the fence line
                                                  and above it all, Orion craned his xiphos to the moon 
                                                                           like the eclipse of your arm across galaxies. 

Summer had fallen on Icarian wings 
                                                              and the moon stole your heart, 
                                                                                                    the way the darting of rainbow 
gumboots between daffodils snatched mine. 
                         You held a tooth marked harmonica against my neck,
                                                  lion printed; the balsa wood stained with breastmilk 
                                                                           and memories of you crawling from play mats.

The evening breast-plated our chests 
                                                              and in your temerity
                                                                                                    you sang Selene in scordato, 
skirling across the scale. I hummed with you, 
             my Pleiadean player 
                         and conductor of celestial company.

This poem was awarded First Place (Teacher) for Poetry Object 2019

'This poem is both simple and complex and very intriguing. The imagery is vivid and the poet feels so present, stamping their words into every second you are with them. “You held a tooth marked harmonica against my neck” is such an exciting line; it has so much glorious detail. Moments like that are nicely spaced through the whole piece. I also appreciated the way the lines are layered then arranged on the page like flowers on a pin board.'
~ Emilie Zoey Baker, Judge, Poetry Object 2019