Ma soeur was never sure where the
Lumiere went when it was dark.
"Is it magique?" she would ask me.
"Je ne sais." I would say to her.
"Le Loup swallows the sun every night,"
grandma would say. 'How macabre' I'd think
to myself. "The machoire of Le Loup
can also swallow Le Lune" she said.
Our eyes became Louche watching the heavens
over many nights. It was magnifique
searching for Le Loup every evening.
We are older, yet we look restlessly.
Through my Lunettes I now watch
as my daughter combs the sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment