Moya Cannon: "Tending" and "Hunter's Moon"

I think if you even merely browse this blog that my appreciation for the poetry of Moya Cannon is very strong.  Here are two more that I wish to share:


TENDING

When a wood fire burns down and falls apart
the fire in each log dies quickly
unless burnt ends are tilted together --
a moment's touch, recognition;
gold and blue flame
wraps the singing wood.

--Moya Cannon


HUNTER'S MOON

There are perhaps no accidents,
no coincidences.
When we stumble against people, books, rare moments
          out of time,
these are illuminations --
like the hunter's moon that sails tonight in its high clouds,
casting light into our black harbour,
where four black turf boats
tug at their ropes,
hunger for the islands.

--Moya Cannon