Globes

Thief in the Night

Claire Åkebrand

Look! at the sky—

a plundered flower shop,
its empty shelves and counters.

Only the moon remains
      like a shred of buttercup petal,
              
         and a handful of stars
like pollen scattered         
                       across the black floor.

Whose greed, my love, what longing?

Print a Booklet Version [?]