Cucumber Moon.

He visits each day at the crack of noon.

He makes his offering; we commune.

Lunch from a sack; we use no spoon.

He casts my share upon the dune.

I go to where the scraps are strewn -

Leery of him, but such a boon!

To his charms I am not immune -

My trust breaks free of its tight cocoon,

And thus we spend the afternoon.

When he leaves, it seems too soon.

As he departs, I caw a tune.

Until tomorrow, my heart is hewn.

He makes me dream of a cucumber moon.

Gift to a raven on your birthday.

Gift of a raven on your birthday.

May all your moons be cucumbers.


  1. Love the painting; love the painter; love the poem; love the poet. Caw!

  2. What a clever poem and painting. Nice gift for
    my birthday which was on 11-7

    Word of advise: collect stuff like this and compile it into a book. It's magic.