The night the moon turned red
I became an anorak watching
with a home made
flask of coffee.The sky never
tasted better, sun, moon
and earth -
old friends in perfect alignment.
Remember it being the colour of mud
we'd spent all day throwing.
Sat watching that big old
rubber ball -- wondering how far
a marriage can be bounced
before all good lines are broken.
If you've any comments on this poem, Paul
Henry would be pleased to hear from you.