If the stars were made of popcorn
I’d use a ladder for a ship
Hang washing for its sail,
fly to heaven and lick
the Milky Way.
Looking down I can see
Into everybody’s garden.
Mrs Miller has pegged out Mr Miller’s jamas.
Girls are dancing with pink and orange lamas.
In Africa a boy looks for elephants in a city.
Another child is crying, either from love or pity.
Moonbeams tickle a cardboard box
with a man inside.
His feet stick out, he has no socks.
He’s humming a funny tune.
He’s hungry and he asks us all
Can we grow figs on the moon.

John Fox