Beth Copeland: Bone Moon

Swallow a tablet that tastes

like chalk. Chase it

with an aspirin. Already

an inch

shorter than at 60, bones

thinner, body that much

closer to the grave, I almost

trip in the clearing where a bruised

moon looms above black branches. Can I

slip through these pines without

falling? Can my husband—no spring

chicken himself—catch me? Snow

crumbles under my skin

as the moon blooms only

to disappear

again.

Copyright 2018 Beth Copeland

Beth Copeland’s most recent collection is Blue Honey published by Broadkill River Press. She lives with her husband Phil Rech and hound dog Kasey in a log cabin in North Carolina. 

.

Beth Copeland