An Astronaut

An astronaut My son dreams of the moon. This morning he flew at kindergarden junk. Build Spacecraft. Draw me a map. I hung on the refrigerator a few pieces of paper To know how to get to the moon. "Tomorrow we are going to fly to the moon," he solemnly informs me. It is not new that he is flying since he was born But this time he flew to bring us lots of cheese. In my dream He sits on the moon like a little prince Picking up my cheese with holes and Many dreams. Soon he will knock with his spaceship A lot of threads of a dream. And the moon He'll present me On a plate. from my book's poem " Crops of Madness"2006 ISRAEL. JERUSALEM Shoshana Vegh hebrew and english