BLUE BLOOD MOON
The orchestra was down to its skeleton
crew: crickets, treefrog.
It was cold enough to keep a corpse
fresh, windows closed.
I stepped out to tip my skull back
on its utmost vertebrae,
its flexible flicked-off desk-lamp of a neck, to see
what everyone was howling about.
So I don't think I was alone
in being alone.
Kathleen Kirk has appeared previously in Stirring, and in a number of print and online magazines, including blossombones, Blue Fifth Review, Poems & Plays, and wicked alice. She is the poetry editor for Escape Into Life, and she blogs about reading, poetry, and life eight days a week at Wait! I Have a Blog?!.