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A Journey Through The Moonlight

Written by: Russell Edson | Biography
 In sleep when an old man's body is no longer 
aware of his boundaries, and lies flattened by 
gravity like a mere of wax in its bed . . . It drips 
down to the floor and moves there like a tear down a 
cheek . . . Under the back door into the silver meadow, 
like a pool of sperm, frosty under the moon, as if in 
his first nature, boneless and absurd.

 The moon lifts him up into its white field, a cloud 
shaped like an old man, porous with stars.

 He floats through high dark branches, a corpse tangled 
in a tree on a river.



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