new moon

blow a trumpet at the new moon
old light on the new sliver
first crescent
wry smile spinning away west

old notches in the sand to count
the days
count again the days
agree to the consistency
of nothing
of everything
agree to the cycle
agree to the month
agree to syncronicity

sound the shofar
blow dizzy blow
bop the night sky
till you drop
in the cool drool
of intoxicated calm

i am the poem i write
i am the new moon

did they take pictures of the backside
of the moon?
we only know the one face

blow a trumpet at the new moon