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South Fork Poetry: ‘Worm Moon’

Wed, 03/08/2023 - 18:44

The earth is held in your open arms
dark loam warming itself in the March sun
Glassy-eyed crows call out from the fields
preening their obsidian bodies 

Underground, worms coil and unspool 
aerate and lighten the soil for planting 
Then the old Algonquin whispers to you
Full worm moon comes: 
Set seeds in the furrows 

Fish rise in creeks fed by the bay
their white bellies scudding through the shallows
Mares' tails ride the updrafts 
corralled as dusk descends
Worm moon climbs higher
and the greening bursts forth.                               

From a series of poems by Monica Enders about full moons and the Algonquin tribe. She lives in Sag Harbor.

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