Poem by Nimoz - 04 July 2025 B

terrifying
tender
holding together
rending apart
tell the time
tell a story

the day is a child that runs away with the sun between its chubby hands like a ball.

the day grows older
taller
so do the tales

it’s the same day over and over
except it isn’t

the day is pregnant
with the moonrise

at noon
the day is a ripe fruit

the day is a mature woman, tired from gestation, that runs down the blue hill of the sky into the dark of the sea.

sometimes the moon won’t rise
bread for the fishes