#20 Strawberry Moon by Emma McKervey

Strawberry Moon

There is a space now where most things fall

presided over by this Strawberry Moon.

The valley cleft fills with saline water to become the sea

and looking from peak to peak the join cannot be seen.

There is this void now, between the sky and the earth,

the sycamore with its shifting parasols of leaf and light

continues to hold that realm, and would allow for that void

to be filled once more, wanting to be known.

But each path becomes a breach, each sunrise, each noon,

each night is the divide, each weighty stone set to mark

the boundaries between one thing and the next is forgotten -

the king is vacant -  this is the interregnum.