Last night I went walking with my wife
for the first time in a while.

A crescent moon that was hanging from
an old tree against the west sky
was so fragile that I scooped it up
and hung it on my window.
Then, I fell into my dream world.

In the early morning, the crescent moon
was hanging below my wife’s forehead.
And beneath my nose, the same black eagle
was soaring.