www.rider.edu/users/suler/ zenstory/moon.html
The Prediction By Mark Strand
That
night the moon drifted over the pond,
turning the water to milk, and under
the boughs of the trees,
the blue trees,
a young woman walked, and for and instant
the future came to her:
rain falling on her husband’s grave, rain falling
on the lawns of her children, her own mouth
Filling with cold air, strangers moving into her house,
a man in her room writing a poem,
the moon drifting into it,
a woman strolling under its trees,
thinking of death,
thinking of him thinking of her, and the wind
rising
and taking the moon and leaving the paper dark.
Inspired by Mark Strand's The Prediction
The Dream by Florence Lumsden
That day the leaves crinkled under
his feet,
making the sun lose its charm, and through
the trees, light fought
sparkling his young face with light, as he ran
the future came to him:
snow falling on the red bus, taking him to the world,
flowers blooming triumphantly on the lawn of their new home, tears
tumble down his cheek, a new life has been born,
a grown man stands looking out of a
window, the leaves falling,
a young man is running through the trees, life is hopeful and new,
thinking of future memories, a breeze comes
pulling the last leaf off that grand tree.
