When I was thirty

I once ate the moon
for dinner.

I was a butterfly then,
still half connected to my cocoon,
left wing ripped, hanging
on by its last thread, the other

Doctors never cured me,
so I swallowed the craters,
let them seal me
from within.

These days,
people call me eagle.
I’ve tied that thread so tight,
it’s managed to trick
the common eye.




About the Poet:
Kristina England resides in Worcester, Massachusetts.  Her writing has been published in several magazines, including Gargoyle, Muddy River Poetry Review, New Verse News, and Silver Birch Press.  You can follow her work at https://kristinadengland.wordpress.com/


Photo by Mystic Art Design.


Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.