A farmer’s child
Hulling rice
Arrests his hands
To look at the moon.
The moon is brighter
Since the barn burned down.
From time to time
The clouds give rest
To the moon-watchers.
Regardless of weather
The moon shines the same.
It is the drifting clouds
That make it seem different
On different nights.
We started out
On our moon-viewing trip, calling to halt
A boat ascending the river.
A boat ascending the river.
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