I Ask You, How Much More Can There Be?

Moon, not half yet, just rose blue
As the sky its white hoop skirts,

As a long, brown bug with wings
Leapt down the trail and then flew

Straight up to that faint, day moon!
Well, you know. It looked like that,

The dark splotch on the white tulle
So high in the sky, then lost.

You can’t beat your point of view
For a world more weird than true.