Pointing

Pointing

Suns and moons weaker getting always.
Once faster than me ran. Then my
walking I look back to her. Three suns
she fall not moving and wait. Small one,
no white water and wait. We wait.

Three moons now I know and draw.
When not move ride on this. Flapping.
I see and now draw. And I know.
After hunt, when fire move and heat
and moon I bring here and will point.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008