Valerie Lynch
Night of the Full Milk Moon
The vegetables bubbled and hissed in the iron pot,
and the wind came whistling, sniffing out
the sharpness of onions. The scent
of half-awake woman was spiked with the tang
of fresh-mown grass where they’d lain
in the meadow below, and he still laboured.
The sun blew roses into her body, open to him
as the night they’d slid on the bed that was new
in the full Milk Moon, when he leapt up and rushed out
to his lambs, big with songs that tossed him over the hills.
Valerie Lynch has had a varied career, from lecturing in economics and in archaeology, to Keeper of Archaeology in a City Museum; from 1984 she has worked as a psychotherapist.
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