Not So

The year flapped open like a calendar
page, photograph of pale moon above
a field of snow.  Shimmering light, ice
on pearl, a snowy owl with its hooked
wings.  Such a diet of delusion
bread.  Mice, their mouths fat with
crumbs, nibbling at moldering crusts.

Steve Klepetar

If you have any comments on this poem,  Steve Klepetar would be pleased to hear them.