The Moon Followed Me Home Copyright © Sally Warrell 2011

From the country to the city it came;
Disentangling itself from the black branches of trees
To hang above chimneys and gables;

 An imperfect circle
Of softly glowing apricot,
Missing two bites,
Two days since it was ripe
And full and ready for anything.

I parked in the narrow street
And got out of my car.
The moon snapped at my heels.
I let it come indoors.